I’m chasing the wind,
But no matter what,
It slips through my hands,
It frustrates me a lot.
I’m chasing that scent,
It brushes past me,
Can’t seem to grasp it,
It wants to be free.
I’m chasing that rush,
It whistles in my ear,
I try to grab onto it,
This will end with a tear.
Because I must face,
The wind is a dream,
It’s a fantasy created,
Of the highest extreme.
And so do I face,
Though the wind is not mine,
It will excite and delight me,
Until the end of time.
Aisha Sherazi
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/chasing-the-wind/
