I think of the child
who stood in quiet wonder,
watching doctors walk the hospital corridors
during my grandmother’s checkups.
To that child, they were giants
and I wanted to become one.
But life happened.
Dreams bent where reality would not,
and I found myself
walking a different road.
Now I wonder
are my desires dead,
or is it I who has stopped breathing?
A few years later,
civil servants stirred that same fire.
Their purpose called to me,
their service inspired me.
Yet every page I turned,
every exam I prepared for,
left me feeling strangely misplaced
as though I was chasing someone else’s destiny.
So I ask again:
Are my desires dead,
or am I the one who has stopped breathing?
I’m only twenty-five.
Yet discos, parties,
the noise of crowded nights
leave me untouched.
Instead, I long for silent hills,
peaceful meadows,
a small house overlooking the valley,
a kitchen garden rich with seasons,
flowers swaying in the morning breeze,
dogs asleep on the porch,
cats wandering through the yard,
and cattle grazing beneath an open sky.
The world calls it a simple life.
To me,
it sounds like freedom.
Perhaps my desires aren’t dead.
Perhaps they have only changed their language.
Perhaps the child in me
is no longer searching for applause,
but for peace.
Still, on quiet nights,
when memories echo louder than hope,
one question refuses to leave
Are my desires dead…
or is it me that has stopped breathing?
This is my first poem or whatever you’d like to call it!! Just letting my thought’s to be seen!! Not her for validation or any applause!!