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 
Written by PierreTheMad
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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