SLUMBER
Reality is a place I dont know anymore, but its here.
Sometimes it makes it all worthwhile.
Sometimes Im numb to it all.
Sometimes it pains me to no end.
But its real and Im here.
My dreams are a place I know all too well.
Ive mapped the landscape over in my mind.
No mountains of pain, no valleys of despair.
And every square inch, filled with all that I want,
And absent the pain of truth.
When my surroundings collapse and my compass is lost,
I search to find my way home.
But the map that I carry leads only to my dreams.
And reality is here.
And I am very much awake.
Reality is a place I dont know anymore, but its here.
Sometimes it makes it all worthwhile.
Sometimes Im numb to it all.
Sometimes it pains me to no end.
But its real and Im here.
My dreams are a place I know all too well.
Ive mapped the landscape over in my mind.
No mountains of pain, no valleys of despair.
And every square inch, filled with all that I want,
And absent the pain of truth.
When my surroundings collapse and my compass is lost,
I search to find my way home.
But the map that I carry leads only to my dreams.
And reality is here.
And I am very much awake.
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
Some kind of evil-poet virus that infects all of Columbus residents and turns them into dark and moody poets of a high caliber.
Im stocking the feck up on it when I come visit.
Swoo.