Melancholy

I feel like broken glasses,

And I can only see bits of my aspirations through the little shards of shattered crystal,

But will never know if what I see is reality or just a distorted vision of what I've dreamt of.

I feel like an unused pencil,

Who's purpose was to be held tight,

Yearning to express feelings and emotions in a positive and clear manner.

I feel like myself,

Always wanting to absorb all the different levels hopes and dreams of my loved one,

Praying one day I can make all of these wants pulled through... But in reality never will.