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Poem

Broken dreams

Another day and I get a little bit older, a week passes and I still feel the same the 
classic mundane haze.
Does it get any better, do I set my own pathway or is my life determined for me, 
lost faith, im trying to deal with life’s reality 
What am I to do but feel the reverberations of other people pass through, sleep 
walking through reality, waiting for something to define me.

The rhythms in my mind feel so sublime, when I close my eyes it’s just my 
thoughts and I, my eyes open and I float back into reality, bewildered and still 
feeling like im in a fantasy.

Pen to paper such a great way to release my minds anxieties, my life is like the 
motion of an ocean swaying side to side never knowing which way its going to 
collide.

Caressing my mind and soul in ways you cannot see, all my visions have arisen 
partly through these frequencies, which has enabled me to learn how to pick 
myself up when I have fallen and there is no one to catch me I am a product of 
what popular culture has mainstreamed.

I look back at history I am grateful for what I have been able to achieve, 
unscathed physically by the war around me, violating so many people’s liberties, 
will these events remain and last we shall see. 

All I have is hope, hope that somebody will find me.

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