Revised/Edited: Yes
Final Version: Yes
Frustration streaming
as the time line of life etches ever on.
Lost in the madness, no more time for fun.
Thoughts plagued with reminders of failure,
who needs hell when you have this kind of personal torture?
The music plays on,
and I relate with the voices singing in my head.
Protesting lost love, broken hearts, forgotten dreams, or of missing someone dead .
You’d think we’d wake up from this living dream; or is it nightmare?,
but we’re free to serve the chains that bind us.
Unobtainable expectations
pour through the mind like wine does in France.
“As seen on T.V.,” proclaims our fanatic society.
Everyone wants to be the popular protégé,
so hold your mask as you walk through the masquerade.
And who are we to blame?
(Because there always has to be someone, something,
or somebody that we can point the finger at and blame.)
The media? The lack of culture? Or dare we lable ourself and hang our heads in shame?
Who would wager guilt lies in the bruised egos and prides of our genra today?
Insecurity obscures the obvious wisdom,
and we’re drowning in all this filth.
And yet for all its worth,
broken dreams, crying hearts, and torn souls remain,
faced with the reality of their own worthless fame.
A tragedy at its best,
but then again, some believe ignorance is bliss.
