It could've been you
Or it could've been me
It could've been the violence
That plays out in my dreams
It could've been the silence that
caresses me ever so gently
Or it could've been the space that
I needed to make any true gain
Lies are potent
And ignorance is bane
I down the truth in the same
sitting as my lies
This beautiful purple haze puts me
in a daze
And this exuberant sunset makes
me no more want to fret
About the future plans of our undoing
I lose faith as I grab the duct tape
Once again to silence another doubter
I fear the actions of a wise man
If knowledge is really power
-K
YOU ARE READING
Melancholy Dreams
PoetryMy poetry is an extension of myself. Every time I write, I stain the page with portions of my thoughts and emotions. Pieces of my former self lie in the stanzas. What is left is the current version of myself. This is my story, more or less.
