The american dream

The american dream

In the night and in the day we are forsaken
as we blame our faults on society's prestige
Taking to charge ion what we say,
more and more we "need"
To whom do we speak to when burdens are of complaint?
The question is who is actually listening?

On our actions of impulse
Unclaimful of our shameful deceit
We proceed to devour the absence of truth
To accumulate in unnecessary objects
To tighten the blindfold that we are first given at birth
What kind of dream is this that we bathe in so?
And when we are heard, is there care?
And when we do see, do WE hear?

As the days pass
we sink into a concave pit
where inanimate objects lie
where there is no soul, no warmth, no light
where only darkness can comfort
And in the end, if there be any, will we comprehend?
Will we make sense?

A bastard child sleeps in the street
Do we look away or do we yield and donate?
It is then when we realize
It is then when we find our true, our unique
When we uncover what really matters
When we sabotage the ugly and bring in beauty
and find our sacred, our respected
That we will find true happiness
That we will find every reason to do right and good

But until then
we shant forget who are really forsaken
To inspire and to teach with a purpose; of reason
exalt every dismal melancholy heart
And with little selfishness
Devote, sacrifice
Bring calm and love, leave agitation and hate
Learn to accept what hurts with what doesn't
and eventually
a dream will become reality
and maybe
we'll fine peace and harmony

~by shaina spink