What If...?
What if... this is all a dream?
What if none of my friends are real?
What if my subconscious creates everything,
to keep me from being alone?
I could be an alien,
dreaming about life in my own head.
Therefore, making reality into nothing.
If so, then I'd be making up
that my friends actually care;
that they stick by me just through my wishes.
What if I'm stuck in a coma,
or have Alzheimer's,
and am slowly forgetting
everything... and everyone...
I love?
And this is my way of coping?
Music could be completely terrible,
and frowned upon in society,
but I'm the only one thinking
it's beautiful.
The same goes with nature,
and art...
If only someone could realize
that this is a possibility,
then I wouldn't be so alone...
What if...
Times Change
Times change.
If you remain too long
during a specific era,
you'll miss out on the present.
And the possible future.
If time stops,
all of the creativity will still be preserved.
It won't go away.
The artist will stop mid-draw,
and the piece will forever be unfinished.
The dancer will hold one more pose
for all of eternity.
The writer will never finish
his new best-seller.
But my point still stands:
Times change.
YOU ARE READING
My Poetry Journal
PoetryJust a collection of some poems that I've written. But a caution goes out to any readers interested: some of these may be happy, some may be sad; some may be morbid, and some will freak you out to the point where you wonder if I'm ok, or sane. But I...
