Poetry

Green grass, gentle breeze
You're here, with a dream
Dreaming about something real, something meaningful
But what is meaningful?
And what does it mean to dream?

We wonder, wander through life
Sometimes we stumble, sometimes we thrive
How I wish we could just die
To free us from the death inside

I wanted her to experience the world with me,
but she knew the world wasn't that kind;
and I was too naïve to see it.

Or maybe, just maybe, I didn't want to see;
for seeing would mean that it'd all go away.