Box of broken dreams
Box of broken dreams; Shattered glasses, Empty pens, And detached handles; I have a box of broken dreams Where all my shattered thoughts Go find a home. I have it with me to compensate for the loss, To make me feel that a loss is not loss until it is lost. So I preserve them in my box of broken dreams; A wooden varnish like smell comes out of it Reminding me of the fresh paint and new drawers. Maybe because dead dreams that I put there Have no smell to mix it with. The initial smell stays. Recently I threw in a half-dead dream, And now my box of broken dreams has started to smell Like an abandoned sock, half-soaked with sweat But one that could bear one more Monday morning, Waiting to be paired up with worn out leather shoes. I am getting accustomed to this new addition to my box of broken dreams, A musty, sweaty smell of exhaustion, And a half-dead dream awaiting resurrection. - Raj Nandani 3.12.2025
