The Dreamers Lie

A pair of dreamers.

Young and fresh faced.

Never seen pain,
or suffering.
Never had to stand over a grave.
holding the spade,
shouting why did you cave,
to the pressures and anxieties,
that your brain made,
as a way to keep you a slave,
To the system that you were born,
lived in and raised.

Was this your prison break?

The only way you knew,
to shout screw you,
to the man with the size 12 foot,
hovering over you?

But he doesn’t care.

Your gone,
and so is your rebellion.
All you did is kill your fire,
quench your spirit
and suffocate friends,
family and lovers.

Tell me…

Did you think about your brother,
when you OD’ed and left the others,
to clean up the mess that was left,
when you shot out our hearts?

Did you think we could just restart?

But anyways…

Dreamers.

Let me tell you why,
that feeling inside,
is all a pleasure-driven lie.
‘Cuase one day they’ll be gone,
and take a piece of you with them,
back to the other side,
and you’ll be left holding your heart out;
silver platter, gasping; “why?”.

But there is no answer to the question of love.
Only truth is in the pain,
you can scream up above,
but until you look inside
you won’t find
what your mind, body and soul need to believe.

To heal.

Is this a creed, tenet or commandment?
A rule, instruction or demandment?

No child it’s free; wisdom you’ll one day see.
But until you do , you can’t believe.
No one does till they’ve gone through,
the love, hurt, and pain,
and come out again,
ready for round two,
“lets go, just me and you”,
you tell yourself,
but that dreams too big for two…

 

 

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