Between fictitious dreams
and a humanized reality
I’m fucked up big time
messed up indications
can’t tell what’s real from fiction
I’ve awakened big time
it’s time for an electrical vibe
one hard to describe
one they can’t prescribe
My thought patterns were messed up big time
my brain was growing adhesions big time
some kind of mental prison
it clouded my vision big time
You can either lose or you can win big time
you’ll commit a mental crime or you can climb big time
Thanks for reading! :)
About the Creator
Poetic Glory
Poetry is a form of expression and a form of healing.
It allows us to freely let our minds flow.
Email: [email protected]
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Wild Waves of Gold
Trembling wheat in the sun-baked winds look like wild waves of gold, skillfully swaying in the glittering day—the fields are an endless and open invitation that calls the free wanderers, the dreamers, and anyone needing a change of pace into its splendor, into its sense of comfortability, into a world separate from the concrete and gray—we may tremble with it—with the wheat spun from the blazing sun, with the carefree visions that may be out of reach for many, including ourselves. The rat race dies here and the unwavering winds bury it in soil while we dance as free as the wheat does.
By Andi Leigh6 days ago in Poets
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