If dreams were all it took for man to survive
Then I could be this young the rest of my life.
Wonders that'd do - I hate eating and sleeping,
Hate staying hydrated, and all the lot more
Like cleaning, urinating and letting out faeces
I hate to say it, but survival's a chore
Stared sometimes into the eyes of doom
And let it do whatever it did to me.
Only if I'll be back to where I was in the end,
I'll go through all the trouble with ease, in a way.
I'll drift into a place where the world knows me
But nothing there is to me, human form and connections -
It's only the great things that I do and say.
And greatest of all, all tomorrows will chase
The trophy of being the best of all days.
No comments:
Post a Comment