"escaptism" poems
I close my eyes, to dream
images come to mind
ideas spring forward
a brave new world is made
To describe such a thing
colors beyond two dimensions
a feeling words cannot fathom
languages undiscovered
But then the dark plot unveils
As always it comes to us
the dark circles us all
ourselves revealed
Escaptism is all
but a futile attempt
who we want to be
who we are now
The gap between
the jump we must make
not impossible to try
for we dare to jump
Over and over and over
we fall short of it
until we begin to accept
that it is not meant to be
Satisfaction unachievable
who we want to be
who we are not
who we instead become
But are we happy?
Nov 6, 2011
Nov 6, 2011 at 5:51 AM UTC