Out of Time
Driftwood on the water's surface
Slowly splintering apart
A kiss of a violent wave
As rain begins to fall
The eyes see so much
But they see nothing without hands
Without touch
Everything is an illusion
Life is fake and real
Fakes are the friendliest
Realists are the meanest
Divine what you will
A word has a thousand meanings
When spoken aloud
It is given inflection
And loses most of them
A question with no answer
An answer without a question
One who always speaks
Is one who never listens
Realism clashes with idealism
In the echoes of a chamber
Listen to the same repeated ideas
A lie spoken often enough becomes true
The loneliest smile the most
And laugh the loudest
Nobody looks into eyes so somber
And sees a soul worth saving
Like driftwood a soul drifts
Life is the water ripping it apart
Over time those fragments fade
As if never there
Copyright © Christopher Goss | Year Posted 2018
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