Evermore,
she rests her head tenderly
on the edges of uncertainty,
perhaps the window that she
lingers her eyes over, would reflect
the tail of a shooting star that's
shipping her wishes..

^^
You can see right away this poem is about an idealist. Only those that the time to stare at the night sky.

By all the clatterers erupting through
her head, soundless she devotes her
habit of listening for the faintest murmur
from the wind-perhaps-
the current would pull her dreams closer.

^^
I have this habit oo, of retreating within myself and to work on my dreams. Only in silence can you hear your own voice when it talks to you.

She starves for the inert power dressing
her spirit to blow up with a new chapter,
devastated yet never giving up on the
dreamer that rises inside of her with courage,
wiping out reality, reforming it-yet-again;
such a brave idealist.

^^
a pessimist sees what is and an idealist/ optimist sees what can be. This is my strongest feeling on the matter.

Many go through life bitter and angry. They have given up their hopes and dreams..when we do, is when we die, Nana..our bodies may be alive and healthy even, but the spirit has started to die and the body will follow at some point in time.

Change can only come when we dare to give voice to our dreams and wishes for a better world:)

Well done, nice wording

5/5 Ingrid

Just when i think you can't write any better you do. Another Masterpiece

You know how much this touches me. This is truly beautiful and makes one keep fighting towards their dreams even if they may seem a bit out of reach. I enjoyed this a lot, as you know. You couldn't have wrote this any better.