The Story

Pencil in hand,

Hair tucked back,

I venture into night,

Dreams in my head,

So many wishes in mind,

I find it difficult to remember later.

Nevertheless,

I try to recreate it,

The scene of life with you, but,

I can never seem to get it quite right - 

All the dreams cloud my judgement,

And the wishes all reality,

So I always erase the story - 

The one set in a world of fiction, not fact - 

And I brush everything away,

Just to start it all over again.