There are moments in life
where we're made of wonder.
Stardust and sunshine
and moonbeams and gold.
Love and passion
and dreams and truths to be told.
Happiness and sweet messages.
Moments where the world itself
is made of diamonds and smiles.
Moments where words are music
and everyday sights turn to beautiful views.
Moments where people seem to glow
with pride and blush at little compliments.
Life is full of those moments
that convince us slowly that we are stardust
and sunshine and good and wonder.
Moments that show us mirages
of beauty and happiness.
And then our dreams,
our sweet sweet dreams of peace,
are crushed by a cold harsh reality.
When we fall and start to bleed,
how then,
how are we pure stardust?
Or when we get angry
and hurt the ones we love,
how can we possibly be
all sunshine and passion?
Or when we lie, when we cheat, when we steal,
how are those truths to be told?
When we stab our own bodies with metaphorical knives
of tears, of insults, of hate,
how can we be pure happiness?
Stardust can't bleed,
Sunshine and passion can't hurt others,
Truths can't lie,
Happiness can't be stained
with the sad truth of self hate.
And so goes our dream-like fantasy
of our own unique perfections.
Because they've been coldly proved wrong
by the sad truths of reality.
And with that we sink back into the relieving,
albeit depressing,
embrace of the actualities in the world.