PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

When will there be a place for me to go?

Why has routine become routine?

Bored with the usual, tired of everything;

You’ll never excite me, I’m afraid of fun.



Addicted to my presence, stoned with impatience;

I want to get away, I want spontaneous change.

Tabs of paranoia followed by pills of misery;

Tropical futures faded with caged stupidity.



I dream of beauties the eye cannot see.

Places of wonder where the foot may not stand.

Carry me away on this destiny cruise;

An ocean of fulfillment that will never come.



Exhausted now, filled with unreachable hopes

I cough out my will for all to see

So pen-handling vultures can disperse my soul

So you can get a piece of me for your own.



But there is one final question to be asked of you.

In the end will you be able to be happy?

Will you see the light as I did my dear friend?

And if so, I tell you this with urgent sincerity,

Look the other way, for dreams lay in the eye of the perceiver.