Dream
Carolina Christevelyn Pay
I have a dream,
A dream to become a singer,
A writer,
A filmmaker,
A mother,
But a sudden occurrence,
Of a life-turning disastrous event,
Brought me into a forced displacement,
A visit abroad for non-prestigious purposes,
Unlike what every cool person would brag about.
Unlike what I wished it would be like,
Years fleeted,
The happy scenes of my life dissolving with the change,
Beaten by the reality,
I saw my dreams crumble and drown in the sea of truth
Living the years in the limbo,
Is like walking in a long doorless tunnel without an end,
Dark and dismal,
Waiting in patience,
Till I see the light at the end of the tunnel,
Waited to feel the light falling on my face,
The end to my long awaiting.
I used to think being a poor,
And without a sense of belonging
Do I still have the right to dream?
Or hope?
Who owns the right to dream?
The beautiful people?
People with power and authority?
Or the rich people?
No, in my prayer, God whispered to me,
Dreams, as hopes and wishes;
They do not discriminate,
Whether you are poor or rich
Powerful or weak
You are free to dream, and hence to live your dreams.
‘You are the master of your dream,
Whether you’ll live it or abandon it,
No one controls it but yourself’
‘Live your dream in an infinity of hope,
Even in the lowest time of your life.
Dream as if you have no troubles’
‘Have faith and be brave,
No matter how hard life is,
Your dream shall never die,
and so never will you’
A dream to become a singer,
A writer,
A filmmaker,
A mother,
But a sudden occurrence,
Of a life-turning disastrous event,
Brought me into a forced displacement,
A visit abroad for non-prestigious purposes,
Unlike what every cool person would brag about.
Unlike what I wished it would be like,
Years fleeted,
The happy scenes of my life dissolving with the change,
Beaten by the reality,
I saw my dreams crumble and drown in the sea of truth
Living the years in the limbo,
Is like walking in a long doorless tunnel without an end,
Dark and dismal,
Waiting in patience,
Till I see the light at the end of the tunnel,
Waited to feel the light falling on my face,
The end to my long awaiting.
I used to think being a poor,
And without a sense of belonging
Do I still have the right to dream?
Or hope?
Who owns the right to dream?
The beautiful people?
People with power and authority?
Or the rich people?
No, in my prayer, God whispered to me,
Dreams, as hopes and wishes;
They do not discriminate,
Whether you are poor or rich
Powerful or weak
You are free to dream, and hence to live your dreams.
‘You are the master of your dream,
Whether you’ll live it or abandon it,
No one controls it but yourself’
‘Live your dream in an infinity of hope,
Even in the lowest time of your life.
Dream as if you have no troubles’
‘Have faith and be brave,
No matter how hard life is,
Your dream shall never die,
and so never will you’
Carolina Christevelyn Pay is a writer who lives in Liverpool. Born to a multicultural background, she draws inspiration from her diverse roots, which enrich her storytelling and poetic expressions. Carolina has written poems, novellas, and children’s books. A Place to Belong was one of her pieces featured previously in the other side of hope.
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