Reality

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Reality

Reality

My whole world is like a dream.
Is what I’m experiencing really what it seems?
I walk with you among your crowds.
I hear what your saying, but your words are much too loud.
Deep within side me I long to scream.
Only my words won’t release.
Do you see what I mean?
I write all my feelings with paper and pen.
No real place to start, no real place to begin.
I don’t see things the way I should.
Fighting for myself, I really never could.
Walking among you although I’m really no there.
Trying to fit in, but I really don’t care.
Reality.
To me it could never really be.

Michael Browning

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Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

Unknown Source

PoeticallyIrish’s Poems (12)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Reality 1
The Word Man 0
One More Drink 1
Her 0
It's 4 You 1
Downtown 1
Dare 0
Another Day 0
The Announcer 2
Night Walker 0
Death's Kiss 0
Last Tear 1