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Poem

Propelling forward through the night,
A simple, simple deed,
A dream of happiness inside,
Is just what we all need.

An icon of perfection,
Cast upon the wall,
We try to reach the point of idol,
Until the very day we fall.

Why live as a copy,
Of what's already done?
When you can prove yourself as you,
And show you've really won.

Our dreams of this perfection,
Will soon come crashing down,
Her beauty's not so flawless,
She's nothing without her crown.

Desire is the drug of life,
Not pot or meth or speed,
Desire kills what most cannot,
Without the notice of what we need.

Our icons lead desire,
Controlling our very minds,
Slow is the process that kills us all,
Through our very souls it winds.

If you dream of this perfection,
Just know you shouldn't so,
The drug is inside us all,
Although it doesn't show.

Propelling forward through the night,
A simple, simple deed,
A dream of happiness inside,
Is not what we all need.

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