At night when the silence is deafening,
when thoughts of what ought to be is screaming.
Dreams of the future, so idealistic yet unrealistic. In dreams where I can be anything and everything I want to be.
Yet I am here wide awake smirking at how great and crazy it would be.
How is that possible, to want a lot of things that is not free. To strive so hard yet still at the same spot, how can I flee?
In a life full of hope, yet there seems to be none. To hold unto something intangible, for the tommorows to follow.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
At night when the silence is deafening,
when thoughts of what ought to be is screaming.
Dreams of the future, so idealistic yet unrealistic. In dreams where I can be anything and everything I want to be.
Yet I am here wide awake smirking at how great and crazy it would be.
How is that possible, to want a lot of things that is not free. To strive so hard yet still at the same spot, how can I flee?
In a life full of hope, yet there seems to be none. To hold unto something intangible, for the tommorows to follow.
