All my life I’ve been asleep
Dreaming of clearer skies
And as I slept you kept me close
Watching with your eyes
You saw me grasp
So many things
Most men never see
And when I tried
To stir awake
You silently left me
I’ve asked myself
So many times
How I could let you go
And the truth it came
As I fell asleep
I had no love to show
For I’m a dreamer
Who sleeps by day
The stars within my eyes
But you were real
No fantasy dreamt
The truth beneath my lies
I’ve not the strength of arm to grasp
Your hand to hold you here
I do not live within this world
It’s best that you’re not here.
About the Creator
Vicious Avarice
The ramblings of a man obsessed with fate. Poetry, quotes, and inspiration. I am a published author who rides the beast of imagination. A storyteller. Check out my children’s book “The Christmas Monster” on Amazon or wherever books are sold
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Message Me Afterwards
>That was a bad idea. I thought you knew… >Oh, the pathos! I don’t really know you as well as I should. In fact, I may not know the real you at all. That essential, sparkling you that you only reveal to a select few. Had I been paying more attention to the stories you are so fond of telling, in which you are invariably author, narrator and protagonist, I would not have been so foolish as to set you up on a blind date. After all, no friend has ever done anything of the kind for another. That’s preposterous. What is a friend, really?
By D. J. Reddall6 days ago in Fiction
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