The Broken Dreamers

On late nights and early mornings 
We sit listen and stare at ceilings of sky
Through the smoke of a cigarette 
Knowing that life and this simple stick are burning out
Sometimes we shout in a whisper 
And curse these night time stars
Knowing full well each one matches a scar

On lonely roads so consumed by darkness 
That light only becomes a memory we ride
But if we drive past the bend of time there will be that light 
So might we, will we, always

Listening to empty sound 
When everyone and no one is around 
Thinking thoughts so profound yet lost to be found
Striving to make sense of the emptiness
Reaching for something more
Knowing we can only be shown the door
For some of us half the battle is getting off the floor

The answer will come
It will never be spoken because the words have fallen from this place
Cold and dark each one of us a spark
But just a few maybe just me and you 
Will be saved by grace and break naivety’s curse
But yet there is one thing worse, there is still no one around
And the empty sound is deafening 

This is the life we lead 
Where tomorrow is something too far
Yet somehow always too soon 
Where the light is dim and dismal 
It creeps in through cracks
And darts like streamers
This is the life of the broken dreamers
Copyright © | Year Posted 2006

Poem

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