The Dream Machine Poem by Ruta Mohapatra

So many dreams
Of so many people
Get broken

The trodden paths
Are full of broken shreds
Of broken dreams

But the dream machine
Keeps working
Whether one oils it or not

It takes in a little sunlight
A little color, a gentle fragrance
To churn out the next dream

We dream when we sleep
We dream when we wake up
We dream when we slog

Thanks to that little dream machine
That nature has implanted
Inside each of us