Big Dreams and Polka Dots
I miss the time when mother would get mad because you dropped tea on her favourite bed sheet and you would wait outside her room and peek through the door knob
Apologies were a little less scary then, meant to be accepted rather than lost in the sort of silence that went on for longer than we could tolerate
Remember how you used to wait for father at the door?
In the hope that he will come across a balloon seller on his way home
You liked the ones with the polka dots, but those were rare to come by
You couldn’t care less about polka dots now
And when was the last time you waited for anyone at the door
Do you even have the time at all?
In between your sickening workload and your chase for materialistic satisfaction that you claimed to hate when you were younger, you blame the universe for sucking your time
Remember those big dreams you boasted about?
Astronaut may have been too far-fetched but what about that promise you made to yourself of doing something great
But does that even matter anymore?
One promise broken at a time, and you wake up in the morning a little more broken than you were last night
In the midst of your failures and heartbreak, you victimise yourself because that makes you a feel a little bit better
But remember when you tripped and fell and told your teacher that you were okay?
Remember that image of that strong person you had in your head?
I wonder where that went
Sometimes I wonder where you went
And maybe someday I will find you again
Looking for a balloon with polka dots on your way back home