From inside we’re all the same
Hunted down by the world’s bureaucracies
We’re lame,
Lame and maybe totally insane,
So i’m grateful for singing whilst this all goes on
Silent melodies ringing over greedy realities
Cups of tea to sink young one’s dreams
It’s never ok to walk away
When all of the world is flying before noon
And the midnight hour is haunted still
We will blissfully talk, yet be humbly unaware,
Of the dying truth behind salted air.
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We need to 'pacify' hope from becoming 'blind faith', and thus falling by the wayside! Sometimes the pressures of life can build up to a boiling point and we question our individual existance and purpose, especially when some expectations fail in others, in the sense that so many of us are not alike - as much as so many of us are! It's a paradoxical equation. As I've found, you need to strive to search for similarity. A good cryptic poem, lots of thinking involved. Take care. Bye.
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