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?