Sly

I wanted to go chasing clouds

Finding comfort in its variability.

But I had dirty clever hands blessing my sanity,

Hands I believed to be God’s own…

Blessing fused with planned lies. 

When I sang of my dream,

They applauded and believed in me. 

They handed me a net 

And said they did let me go free. 

Drenched with failure 

With the net I returned. 

I sobbed in the dark 

And they smirked and laughed. 

Why did I believe?

Why did I not doubt the crooked smile?

Fools like me lie in the dark 

And die with dreams unseen. 

Advertisements

4 responses to “Sly

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s