the snow, keeps calling me
telling me to go back to my roots,
to embrace my troubles,
pressing me to forget that
perfection is not life.
urging me to live more
not bother about what the future holds
to have a joyful Christmas Eve.
But my busy life is me.
Of having too many promises to fulfill.
With the future beckoning me.
I can’t wait for the stars to make them come true.
Neither can I have my leisure hold me back.
Such is my Christmas Eve.
Tried writing a sonnet for the first time. The battle between self and dreams….. it all depends on you. Do check out poetryhive for the prompts.