He saw the glass jars.
“Let’s catch the falling stars with them,” he said.
The stars in his eyes twinkled
As we hunted in the dark, reaching upwards to catch the falling stars.

He kept one jar, and I the other.
But things happen, whether you want them to or not.
So, while his stars glowed, mine faded away,
And soon they were dancing shadows of misfortune.

A requiem for the fallen dreams, I said.
But is it true? The stars died away as did my dreams?
I believe it to be so, because for every dream that was lost
Another scar on my skin was born.

He saw the jar with the dancing shadows.
“What happened?” he asked.
“My dreams died, what about yours?”
He looked at me, and what wasn’t spoken was plainly heard.

I like where I am now,
Far, far away from that hopeless land.
I still keep the glass jar
Wondering if the dreams that died will come back to life someday.