he said it was important to question yourself
do we live in an eternal dream, a coma
that we could wake up from tomorrow
fresh and red, ripe for a new dream
sprinkling star dust and tear crumbs on children's eyes
hoping to shield them from the future they won't have
their mouths opened, pearly whites gritting words
unsaid in the hollowness of their homes
marble floors and pale walls collect the nail clippings
perfection hunting us even in our fantasy
but if we are not
then who will dream about us?