Dreams, oh dreams, where for art thou?

Written by Angela M. Riddick, Poetic Mustard Seeds. All material posted by Poetic Mustard Seeds is protected by copyright.

Could you be tucked away in the window sill of the run down apartment occupied by the Egyptian queen

who despite her best efforts

can not seem to escape

or are you in the seams of the belt-less sagging pant wearer who despite his awkward walk

longs for direction and purpose

Are you in the alcohol filled glass perpetrating as escapement

but for real – you are entrapment

or just maybe, just maybe, you are in the bottomless pits of hell felt by men and women

who are confused

by who they should be as opposed to who they were born to be

Dreams, oh dreams

Are you in relationships that search for real meaning through tight bodies, 1200-thread cotton and rubber made materials

or are you in the laughter of the crowd that drowns out the sad, complacent with life

yet extremely deep thinker

Are you in videos and lyrics that tell our dreamers how to physically move

yet leaving them miserably empty most of the time

or are you in the chalked white line that once was a pulse beating heart beat line

Are you at the back of the classroom, too afraid to put your hand up

for fear of appearing smart

or are you in the black and mild, betwixt the legal leaves and the illegal weed

waiting to be smoked or get smoked

Dreams, oh dreams, where for art thou?

Are you buried six feet under with chiseled names in cement

instead of names in headlines and neon lights

or are you buried so deep in the sin of this world

that you have become recognizable

Dreams, oh dreams, where for art thou?