deepundergroundpoetry.com
Broken Images
He spits out the colours
The colors that he once considered,
Were his beautiful dreams.
The colors he once insisted,
would truelly become real.
Even though his heart aches,
He couldn't...
Wouldn't...
Dare to hope.
Just half-heartedly trying to persuade himself,
that with time,
he could learn to cope.
Oh! The Dreamer,
mirroring such blasted agony in his eyes.
His soul cries and screams,
as his lonely heart turns to ice.
He feels his insides dying,
He feels himself turning grey.
If only his dreams of colors would heal him,
He silently prays.
Oh! My dreamer...
Whom believed his star shape colors
would one day become real.
But life's evil brutality woke him up,
And only pain and suffering
is all he's able to feel.
The colors that he once considered,
Were his beautiful dreams.
The colors he once insisted,
would truelly become real.
Even though his heart aches,
He couldn't...
Wouldn't...
Dare to hope.
Just half-heartedly trying to persuade himself,
that with time,
he could learn to cope.
Oh! The Dreamer,
mirroring such blasted agony in his eyes.
His soul cries and screams,
as his lonely heart turns to ice.
He feels his insides dying,
He feels himself turning grey.
If only his dreams of colors would heal him,
He silently prays.
Oh! My dreamer...
Whom believed his star shape colors
would one day become real.
But life's evil brutality woke him up,
And only pain and suffering
is all he's able to feel.
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