“It does not do to dwell on dreams
And forget to live.“
To lay drowned in imagined passions;
Waking up to reality, miffed.
Uttering absentminded perfunctory replies;
While in a perpetual fantasy, adrift.
Considering yourself unfortunately stuck
In places unworthy of your bucket-list.
It does not do to say that you’ve listened,
When all you’ve caught is the vague gist.
Petulantly craving necklaces of rubies,
When you can’t afford earrings of amethyst.
Looking for signs of wear on the teeth
Of the horses that you’ve received as gifts.
Feeling tragically misunderstood when someone suggests
That you could use an opinion shift.
It does not do to try and feign indifference;
Whilst regretting all the chances you missed.
Losing heart in the opportunity of now,
To muse about that pestilent ‘what if-?’
Some times, moving on feels laughably easy;
Others, feels like a dagger’s in your chest buried to the hilt.
You have to remind yourself that you’ve come too far now.
Yet not far enough considering that it’s your heart you risked.
(A/N: the credits for the first two lines of this poem go to Joanne Kathleen Rowling, who made Albus Dumbledore say them in Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.)