As cynical as this may seem, I often see poets cutting the seams between poetry and the extreme.
As humans it’s difficult to express love through words so we go back to touch and at times it’s too much.
Projecting ideas and similes that have gone unchecked, they leak deep in mind dripping down my spine.
Let the soft-spoken wisdom of last night resonate, oft then not, it seldom seems to sink in until you dream.
It may be a semantic test even though it feels like a beat pumping more than blood inside of my chest.
The concaved debris of yesterday’s mistake still remains, it is almost like a still frame picture show of pain.
The difference between them and me is the same thing that determines what is to become of humanity.
At last it was only closed eyes to this thing we call reality, and as cynical as it may seem…
It was only a dream.
As humans it’s difficult to express love through words so we go back to touch and at times it’s too much.
Projecting ideas and similes that have gone unchecked, they leak deep in mind dripping down my spine.
Let the soft-spoken wisdom of last night resonate, oft then not, it seldom seems to sink in until you dream.
It may be a semantic test even though it feels like a beat pumping more than blood inside of my chest.
The concaved debris of yesterday’s mistake still remains, it is almost like a still frame picture show of pain.
The difference between them and me is the same thing that determines what is to become of humanity.
At last it was only closed eyes to this thing we call reality, and as cynical as it may seem…
It was only a dream.