Who; Dream; Reality

thoughts

Who cares about me having a damned old brain?

Who cares about anything other than appearance and its name?

Who cares about simple pleasure before fortune and fame?

Who else knows what I mean, who else feels the same?

 

Who hears the emotions behind the words?

Who hears the feeling behind the hurt?

Who hears the violence in everything, in the chirp of the birds?

Who else knows what I mean, who cares about my damned old words?

 

Who sees the man behind the curtain, the true me?

Who sees the reflection behind the dirty mirror, what can it be?

Who sees the real words in the books they read?

Who else knows what I mean, who else feels lost between fiction and reality?

 

Who wants to find what’s inside the contents of the boys’ damned old brain?

Who wants to look past the appearance, and find the words inside his dreams?

Who wants to find the truth behind his curtain?

Who wants to discover what it is to know, see, and feel the true me?

 

No one? That’s how it seemed…

Until he woke up and realized it was all a dream.

Now he waits on the porch swing, listening to the chirping birds sing;

Waiting for the explorer to search his existence and see, the truth behind the words and the reflection behind the dirty mirror, and all that he must be. Waiting for a reality that resembles his dreams.

 

Author's Note

raw, unedited. sentence fragments are there. not writing for perfection. just scribbling down thoughts.