For the book readers, the dreamers, the believers, the lovers..
Having had a heartache more than once,
when lovers left us before the story was done.
Having had a dream to be woken up by the kiss,
But nothing seems real for the bliss.
Fairy tales fed the brain,
When Cinderella, was the first book to begin.
Often left in cinders then to the bin.
It is the dreamers who get their hearts broken to love again.
Memories in multitudes,
Actions without vicissitudes.
Hopes for miracles.
Prayers piled in a collage,
Oh wish there was an Oracle!
It is the lovers who get their hearts broken to dream again.
Sooner than later does the poetry come to play,
Dante and Petrarch,
Homer and Horace,
Seneca and Virgil,
Lyrically delight with their prey.
It is the readers who get their hearts broken to believe again.
The search for peace.
Nonchalance is unavailable, it blew with the breeze.
It is the believers who get their hearts broken to read again!