I’m weary of dreams
They cover eyes and blind to reality
Showing only joy and a touch of pain
Never really displaying the hurt
The lies peddled from the cart of life.
Pulling a thread unravels the cloth
And coincidences I believe in not
Yet my loyalties lay bound in knot
And over my head cover my eyes with this tarp of cloth
To scratch a rusty peny
Unveil its hidden treasures and ills
May be fortune,
May be filth
But to seek truth
The blinders should be torn asunder
Display the roads to yonder
Decide and choose
The path to take
And the path to cede
For light to fresh eyes
At first is pain
Then next its accustom
As such to see beyond the picket fence
A board must be pulled.
Thus show to me dear thread I’ve pulled
What lies beneath this cloth you built
A truth I know not yet of and I should
Or an overactive imagination keeping me glued.
For I trust not what I hear
But I do see through your veneer.