Jun 2015
The day I stop dreaming
is when I started my progress…
I never really understood to why, oh why
do we have to start a living?
In the city of progress, I became the mindless puppet
Of what we call ‘the clichés of society’
FOR NOW - I’m totally blind in all five senses
to where my love should be place in…
From a specific today, I am robbed for my silence
Totally alone never wanted nor even needed
Conceivably A misplaced person in a ‘crazy world’
- or it is just me who thinks this way.
Sometimes I would think no one would ever really captured
- ‘the essence of my heart’
Or probably it was just me, who never did take noticed.
Guessing I am too
- Perverse to feel anything within the walls of my five senses.
Despite everything else, I understood how Society lives by.
The imaginable ways it burdens and pleasure in
–> Giving –> Receiving –> Showing –> US
how life works with their walls.
I could never blame how our world becomes a harsh place,
Yet I could took the blame on US
or our humanity is too faulty consecutively.
Too many Securities from any Insecurities.
Walls upon Wall of their Owning Glory,
Almost nothing is free.
So I stand chained from cultural responsibilities,
for we were made to think this way.
Ashamed of what I discovered
So I hide in the covers of my pen
To write, just write,
A Written voice for the fallen..
is when I started my progress…
I never really understood to why, oh why
do we have to start a living?
In the city of progress, I became the mindless puppet
Of what we call ‘the clichés of society’
FOR NOW - I’m totally blind in all five senses
to where my love should be place in…
From a specific today, I am robbed for my silence
Totally alone never wanted nor even needed
Conceivably A misplaced person in a ‘crazy world’
- or it is just me who thinks this way.
Sometimes I would think no one would ever really captured
- ‘the essence of my heart’
Or probably it was just me, who never did take noticed.
Guessing I am too
- Perverse to feel anything within the walls of my five senses.
Despite everything else, I understood how Society lives by.
The imaginable ways it burdens and pleasure in
–> Giving –> Receiving –> Showing –> US
how life works with their walls.
I could never blame how our world becomes a harsh place,
Yet I could took the blame on US
or our humanity is too faulty consecutively.
Too many Securities from any Insecurities.
Walls upon Wall of their Owning Glory,
Almost nothing is free.
So I stand chained from cultural responsibilities,
for we were made to think this way.
Ashamed of what I discovered
So I hide in the covers of my pen
To write, just write,
A Written voice for the fallen..
A friend told me “I think life ends when a man stops from breathing and also when he stops from dreaming. What will keep us moving if we no longer have holds to aspirations, to hope...”
Then my friend, Kalypso answered a big part of it in her review on what I am talking about in this piece, she said: “being a dreamer for so long, having to pull my head and heart out of the clouds and start the mundane process every day, over and over again, would bring me into this realm of thinking. Wondering why we do ...what we do? What is the purpose of working just to pay bills and survive, but barely live? Feeling like I disappeared in the process of becoming an adult and taking on responsibilities. Having no time to explore the world. To ponder the mysteries of life...or capture the beauty of everything around us. How the monotony takes away your creativity and individualism, blends you into society, almost making you invisible.”
Then Rachelle’s questions arise saying: “Do we grumble? Do fall into a deeper pit of despair or do we try to figure out how to transform our reality such that the world is exciting and challenging again?”
With all those thoughts arises from my poem, I came to understand that despite I stop dreaming big, I still hold on to the little hope and a hint faith I have on myself that someday, in some way a dream could rise again from the burned pages of my bucket list.
I am thankful that I have find/found friends in my writings.
So I appreciate everyone who reads me, greatly....
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/willyampax/1336541/
Then my friend, Kalypso answered a big part of it in her review on what I am talking about in this piece, she said: “being a dreamer for so long, having to pull my head and heart out of the clouds and start the mundane process every day, over and over again, would bring me into this realm of thinking. Wondering why we do ...what we do? What is the purpose of working just to pay bills and survive, but barely live? Feeling like I disappeared in the process of becoming an adult and taking on responsibilities. Having no time to explore the world. To ponder the mysteries of life...or capture the beauty of everything around us. How the monotony takes away your creativity and individualism, blends you into society, almost making you invisible.”
Then Rachelle’s questions arise saying: “Do we grumble? Do fall into a deeper pit of despair or do we try to figure out how to transform our reality such that the world is exciting and challenging again?”
With all those thoughts arises from my poem, I came to understand that despite I stop dreaming big, I still hold on to the little hope and a hint faith I have on myself that someday, in some way a dream could rise again from the burned pages of my bucket list.
I am thankful that I have find/found friends in my writings.
So I appreciate everyone who reads me, greatly....
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/willyampax/1336541/
