Who's to sayA Poem by Dream Weaver
We just stroll on down the road, as we distribute this heavy load, of broken promises and broken dreams, love isn’t always as it seems. Who’s to say we belong, forever nomadic in a song, how much hope, can we cope, as the world watches closely under a microscope, who’s to say it should be that way, a fabrication of love in decay. In the darkness of the night, we dream of perfection in black and white, empty hearts and empty souls, come together in valleys and knolls. So many miles have come between, everyday a inverted monochrome scene, when did it start and where will it end, were we really together just to condescend? Isn’t love pretentious, when spied through the eyes of a fool, every word sarcastic, enforcing the villainous gag rule. Still we roll with desperate need, in search of passion at blinding speed. Has it always been this way, a sort of perverse judgment day? © 2011 Dream WeaverAuthor's NoteReviews
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Added on February 5, 2011Last Updated on May 19, 2011 Author
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