Dreamer

Dreamer.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall,

Show me who will be the one who opens that door;

The door out of this place.

Who will save me from the monotony of my every day?”

“You poor dreamer violin,

thinking one day you’ll fulfill your dreams.

Look at you!

You are a dusted piece of wood.

Who will be interested in you?”

“That’s not what I see,” said the violin.

“And one day you’ll see it too.

When my destiny walks through that door,

He will look at me and I will look at him,

And together we’ll play beautiful symphonies.

People will smile at the sound of my strings,

And with their hearts they will hear the music that comes within me.

My wood will no longer be dusted.

It will shine from all the flashes that fame brings;

from all the crystals around me.

Then people will see what I see.

Not a dusted piece of wood,

But my dreams come true.”


By Nerea Duran