A Boy With Unusual Vision

They say I’m a boy with unusual vision

But they can’t see my dreams

I’m just a writer patiently waiting to die

I’m just a fantasy

My mind isn’t real

My thoughts are just make believe

I’m just a writer constantly wondering why

A toy to be played with by unknown confederates

Who thrive on the blood of the fools

The world could be ending

But they are still editing

The film of a life of the new

They say I’m a boy with unusual vision

I want my dreams to come true

I’m just a writer patiently waiting in line

I am one of the fools

I’m a piece of the action

I’m lonely and scared

My hair should turn grey in my prime

I lose my cool

My sense of direction

yet I’m still feeling fine

I talk to the ghosts inside of my soul

They tell me where to go

To find a way to find all the answers

I find them, and still I don’t know

Just a boy … Just a toy

Just a boy … Just a toy

They say I’m a boy with unusual vision

And then I am told I am blind

I’m just a writer patiently waiting to die

Before my time

A creature of sort that knows no better

Someone no one would want to find

I’m just a writer constantly wondering why

Wandering through life

Waiting to die

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s