In the pool hall, We speak of revolution And on resolutions. How to wake people up? We are all so consumed, With the struggles of day-to-day. So focused on the bottom line: We're letting the future slip away.
Not a fantasy. It's reality. Is it really as we think it to be? To me, what I see and perceive, isn't enough to make me believe, there's somethin' else that's happening. In my own world. My own everything. It's my own fantasy, in my reality.
We met like souls long separated lived like lovers and made plans together for a future that we would never realize. Years later I wonder how her daughters are, who is she now, what mask does she ware, or did she finally become herself the one I met all those years ago.
fear is a tiny seed planted in my lower belly. the seed sprouts suddenly, its roots extending toward my feet. my thoughts are consumed by the seed, which grows into a strong, sturdy tree whose branches wrap around me, paralyzing my whole being.