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The Expressionists

Poetry

They speak. I hear. I breath. He looks. They run. I look away. I turn back. They disappear. I wake up. They are gone. Them and he; are just shadows. -------- The Dreamer CopyRight MyTimeWasYesterday

#deep #illusions #life #love #real #trueful

e m p t y m u g s

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by MyTimeWasYesterday

by MyTimeWasYesterday

there once was a place were it was loved; there once were faces that were filled with such love; their

faces radiated off the shimmering glasses which we consumed from; glasses filled high;

and strong minds pointed stretched to the skies; we were once there

; physically and mentally there; with hope in our essence;

there was once a time; where even the faces shimmered; now their dull and glazed over;

eyes be seen; lives be lost; in the shattered reminiscence;

tales were to be told; lives were to be lived; yet the fantasy of life was corrupted;

with vile creations; the ones who spoke of the tales; were strange from us;

for they did not realize; their doings; for what was lost in the stories; we were the ones lost;

our lives were tokens; that were not yet processed;

for the creators; for the curious; and for the weak; life was meant to be told; but not like this;

it was to be much more; now theres nothing; nothing left to keep; or to hold;

everything is gone; destroyed and taken; theres no hope; for look at the mugs;

they are empty and broken; like us.