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