Broken Dreams

Boxes of broken crayons in my bag

A torn reminder of times I miss

The colors no longer shine,

Seeing them, eyes no longer glitter

The wax is all but gone. 

I dreamt of being an artist,

Of bringing life to paper and canvas alike.

But now I'm stuck with broken dreams 

A shattered reminder of my plight. 

Trying to move ahead

Am just tied up with those invisible strings

Feels like a prisoner of my past.

My future seems to be bleak

By those broken crayons in my bag

Now am left with just words

Nothing to show, nothing to draw

And words are all I have 

To create a semblance of happiness

Sad I feel to see those empty boxes of broken crayons in my bag.