Poetry, Free thought ramblings, and other random
displays of my conciousness
Dying Dreamer
03-09-98
Awakening to find the noose already tied
But you can't remember when the black hood came this time
But you do remember when he came the first time.
The time where you entered his domain
The place where dreams are discarded in pursuit of standards
Everyone must meet the man in the hood
Everyone except the select few who are brave enough to escape him
They are called criminals, delinquents and are accused of not pulling
their share
But they are truly the heroes, the ones who have escaped the mold.
Following their dream, they have chosen their heart
Whether their dreams are met is not the goal in the end
The journey towards the shapes they see in the clouds
This is what they live for and what they will eventually die for
Not dying by a noose or buttons that may as well be Y-shaped switches,
pulled by the society's oppressor.
Tearing the thread against it's weave
They manage to survive.
The lone cat, seeking out the interest of the time and place
Unrestricted with a flowing concious, the walls are not climbed
but avoided
In turn for fences, which can be overcome through dedication
rather than mindless perserverance.
The seagull who dives for the thrill truly lives on,
While the oyster cracking birds are swallowed up by the sea.
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