Elegy of a Dreamer

They say a fool is born when another ceases to be

I wonder who departed when I started to see.

This puzzling thought, might seem out of place

But then again, I blabber, with my own shameless grace.

This rhyming sucks coz I am no elegist

Its meaning I barely know or at least the gist.

But I guess it’s justified when a quietly desperate man

Wants to dream about HER, as much as he can.

You see this dreaming takes most of my time

On the roadside, in a rickshaw or even under a stop sign

I find a pretty face and let the reverie take me

To a far off place right next to Tristan and his eternal biwi (Isolde!)

I picture a Kodak moment with every pretty face

Coz it’s the only thing I can do other than tie my shoe lace

Behind every photo I write a fantastic story

But it’s all in my head with no reward and glory.

The story always changes but the plot remains the same

As if all too many photos are displayed in a single frame

My brain tells me the logic, my aortic pump the emotion

But my eyes see the chance I have, with every infatuation.

I dream of the jokes I’ve told too many times

The way she would laugh hearing the stale punch line

I dream of the conversations that would never seem to ensue

The way I would be besotted, regardless of my milieu.

A fool’s hope they say is a fool’s hope after all

But this hope of getting it right makes my skin crawl

This possible humbug may be humbug after all

But my emotions you see, are all over the wall

And yet when I notice another attractive visage

My programmed brain tells me the tactic, the game and her age

On my way to Tristan’s, I chuckle and realize

The girl changes but the fantasy remains the same

The girl changes the fantasy remains the same.

XX