What is reality?
It's just a word, not a world--
At least not one our eyes can see.
Twixt you and me our realities swirled,
Swapped, and changed were our fates.
Are we sinners or are we saints?
Or just plain sailors, second rate?
With a steady gait, and a high-held head,
We shall marry Death, accept him in our bed.
Reality to one may seem, to another,
Like a desk neatly kept or a shredded book cover.
Reality is as fleeting as our dreams,
A woven fairy, wings torn at the seams.
And fate is merely a state of mind,
A belief that our futures are forever defined.
We are just God's wayward sons,
Waging wars while lacking guns.
We must live with all our mistakes,
Resisting the urges to drown them in lakes.
We spend our lives looking for love,
Dismissing the raven in search of the dove.
But maybe our reality lies with the raven.
And maybe our fates are not what is craven.
When pain and stupidity cuts us down to size,
Will we finally realize that it's too late to apologize?
This is the true face of our dark reality.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem