Today I Became A Realist

the sad face of dreamers, waking to the life that pa*sed them by. they follow forever the flame that holds their eyes(?). they march in place, straight to their graves. they hold their hands, whispers in the air. what fills our eyes is what makes our lives, as they kick the dust just to remember the light the poorly drawn believers, fading in the towing of the tide. they sink here forever, stark as stone inside. they insure their names, in spots on graves, in the idle hands of idle days. as we fill our lives, we all realize how we spend our days is what becomes our lives sail on quick. fly past the world. find me a love