Things go on and days breeze by as
our dreams drift away and die.
the silver light of childhood is gone away and the crimson of reality is here to stay.
We're all locked in this prison thinking only of escape. To soar free in hazy dreams. If only life were all a dream. . .
But summer's day flit away and the blizzard of reality is here to stay. And we're all alone. This poem's for you reality. Nemisis, friend, this poem's for you. |
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