Reality
A dream.
You wake up, and you look outside
out there is a barren wasteland
strewn with the debris of mankind.
I cannot be reality.
It is too dirty, too messy
There are no trees
There is no water.
This is a separate world, a separate dimension.
The sun no longer smiles on the world
The man in the moon has run away
The sky is no longer blue, but black.
Someone is playing a trick.
There is no one walking and playing
There is no hustle and bustle
Just the wind whispering through the street
This is reality.
What you cannot believe
What you cannot perceive
What you cannot imagine.
|
Back to the Weekly Column Archive