Shadows silhouette
static t.v. screens electrifying
performance just before the curtain falls
An audience roars applauds to none of which
is truly heard, taking bow to resounding success

All at a level best, the author neither hears the end
of their own story—but quietly predicts it
Believes in it so much, it soon becomes disbelief
or as the fear of a fitting end has eliminated grief

Ssshh,
shuttle away to the quietest of dreams
transported to a land of only imagination
Passion, passions of all but passionate
Weaving through traffic of a rush hour mind
with no stop signs or any bright red light

Denying all of your pride
so choked up in a dream, coughing out aspiration,
ambition, or ideals
And only in a land void of fears, do we soon
find the bravery to grow our wings