deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Dreamsand Exhibit
Once, in a dream
I was a real human being
A person, not a thing
No more struggle to be free
Something simpler: a reaction in effect
An artistic expression of everything that's come before
But then I fell short
Somewhere along the way
all the lines that were drawn cut me into pieces
Segmented.
Fragmented.
Cemented into place.
A disgrace to the way I was meant to be
Or so I think
and want so badly to believe
It's been too long and I've lost touch
With that sense of familiarity that speaks for itself
when no one is really there
Not separated from the environment
and not just a prop in the scene
(something to dress up the set)
but an actor in a play they've written for themselves
Where all loose ends are tied up tight
Where all the laughs are real
Where all the friendships weather the storms of drama and tragedy
and sail forever into the calm, pastel sunset
And where waking... doesn't mean a thing
I was a real human being
A person, not a thing
No more struggle to be free
Something simpler: a reaction in effect
An artistic expression of everything that's come before
But then I fell short
Somewhere along the way
all the lines that were drawn cut me into pieces
Segmented.
Fragmented.
Cemented into place.
A disgrace to the way I was meant to be
Or so I think
and want so badly to believe
It's been too long and I've lost touch
With that sense of familiarity that speaks for itself
when no one is really there
Not separated from the environment
and not just a prop in the scene
(something to dress up the set)
but an actor in a play they've written for themselves
Where all loose ends are tied up tight
Where all the laughs are real
Where all the friendships weather the storms of drama and tragedy
and sail forever into the calm, pastel sunset
And where waking... doesn't mean a thing
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