We lie awake and dream our dreams, letting our thoughts flow like streams,
Like mist around the moon, on a warm night in June
They vanish.
Tick, tock the time rolls around the clock,
Slowly but surely fought, lessons, they never seem taught
Forgotten.
Although changed is expected, it is never fully accepted
A frightening contemplation, but a permanent deliberation
Such is life.
We’re positioned at this conditioned point
As time rattles on, like you’re just a pawn
In this short game.
A careless thought, no longer sought
Left alone life a leaf being blown
Away in the wind.
You can try screaming, just to find meaning
But what you desire will soon expire
As will it all.
Sewing the seam never truly gets rids of the dream
A life without strife
Would be wonderful
The thought of life without good-bye could make one’s heart fly
A million miles above, soaring like a dove
Away from the world.
Feb 23, 2011
Feb 23, 2011 at 5:15 PM UTC
We lie awake and dream our dreams, letting our thoughts flow like streams,
Like mist around the moon, on a warm night in June
They vanish.
Tick, tock the time rolls around the clock,
Slowly but surely fought, lessons, they never seem taught
Forgotten.
Although changed is expected, it is never fully accepted
A frightening contemplation, but a permanent deliberation
Such is life.
We’re positioned at this conditioned point
As time rattles on, like you’re just a pawn
In this short game.
A careless thought, no longer sought
Left alone life a leaf being blown
Away in the wind.
You can try screaming, just to find meaning
But what you desire will soon expire
As will it all.
Sewing the seam never truly gets rids of the dream
A life without strife
Would be wonderful
The thought of life without good-bye could make one’s heart fly
A million miles above, soaring like a dove
Away from the world.
© Morgan Percy 2011
a poem I wrote for an assignment in English class,
was nearly the death of me
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