Witty
03-21-2013, 11:11 AM
"You've got to have a dream,
because if you don't have a dream
How you gonna have a dream come true?"
He wakes to screams, fear radiating from his own soul
It's so cold, as trepidation seers through each pore
His deep core of pain, the scars with sewn holes
The lone toll of life's bell, ringing; a bittersweet chord
He weeps for his loss, discreet, sore, and tossed
On grief's heap, as deceit sweeps forth the dross
Washed up on pity's beach, bored, and lost
The love he reached for, out of sight, feet tore and soft
Walking on jagged stones, talking in manic tones
Boxed in his tragic home, where life stopped...
Turned to nothing...it's damaged, blown
To smithereens, now his riveting and vivid dreams
Are all he has, he stands shivering from rivers, streams
Immersed and soaked by withered scenes
Of past hope, now just a joke...choked
grabbed at the throat, by things he's never been
*He used to be so different*
Amusing and so gifted, nice girl and beautiful home
Future plans were blooming, his mind used to just roam
Denying blues by writing tunes from his soul
Everyone liked him too, the nicest dude you could know
Listening to his songs, you knew they were gold
Most likely to succeed, you couldn't entice him into greed
When he wasn't writing or on a mic, he would just read
Doing shows for free, his poetry was known to be magic
Made everything he wrote into his own, instant classics
His pen was his friend, his girl was his soul mate
All three journeyed round the world, made their own fate
They didn't know hate, because they'd give it no space
It didn't grow, it couldn't while his gift bestowed grace
.
.
But the world has no space for new flowers
Her cold face...the lid closed...
...he's now sick of hope's taste, it's too sour
*His last dream lasted two hours*
All he ever wanted was simplicity
Now his past self taunts him with his symphonies
Exhausted even when he sleeps, he lives in misery
Tossin' through his memories, crossed back to the seventies
better times, better scenes...the cost of all his melodies
Was it a plan from above that broke his passion and love?
His girl passed from cancer, like wings snapped off a dove
He sinks faster, he's shoved to depression and solitude
They only meet in his dreams, sleep is all he wants to do
Fuck rap, you can keep it, her sweetness was all he knew
His career only worked with her, now the pieces are all unglued
So he dreams, some don't seem real...but some do
And the only reason he weeps, is because...
....this is one dream that will never come true.
"Dream no small dreams for they have no power to move the hearts of men."
because if you don't have a dream
How you gonna have a dream come true?"
He wakes to screams, fear radiating from his own soul
It's so cold, as trepidation seers through each pore
His deep core of pain, the scars with sewn holes
The lone toll of life's bell, ringing; a bittersweet chord
He weeps for his loss, discreet, sore, and tossed
On grief's heap, as deceit sweeps forth the dross
Washed up on pity's beach, bored, and lost
The love he reached for, out of sight, feet tore and soft
Walking on jagged stones, talking in manic tones
Boxed in his tragic home, where life stopped...
Turned to nothing...it's damaged, blown
To smithereens, now his riveting and vivid dreams
Are all he has, he stands shivering from rivers, streams
Immersed and soaked by withered scenes
Of past hope, now just a joke...choked
grabbed at the throat, by things he's never been
*He used to be so different*
Amusing and so gifted, nice girl and beautiful home
Future plans were blooming, his mind used to just roam
Denying blues by writing tunes from his soul
Everyone liked him too, the nicest dude you could know
Listening to his songs, you knew they were gold
Most likely to succeed, you couldn't entice him into greed
When he wasn't writing or on a mic, he would just read
Doing shows for free, his poetry was known to be magic
Made everything he wrote into his own, instant classics
His pen was his friend, his girl was his soul mate
All three journeyed round the world, made their own fate
They didn't know hate, because they'd give it no space
It didn't grow, it couldn't while his gift bestowed grace
.
.
But the world has no space for new flowers
Her cold face...the lid closed...
...he's now sick of hope's taste, it's too sour
*His last dream lasted two hours*
All he ever wanted was simplicity
Now his past self taunts him with his symphonies
Exhausted even when he sleeps, he lives in misery
Tossin' through his memories, crossed back to the seventies
better times, better scenes...the cost of all his melodies
Was it a plan from above that broke his passion and love?
His girl passed from cancer, like wings snapped off a dove
He sinks faster, he's shoved to depression and solitude
They only meet in his dreams, sleep is all he wants to do
Fuck rap, you can keep it, her sweetness was all he knew
His career only worked with her, now the pieces are all unglued
So he dreams, some don't seem real...but some do
And the only reason he weeps, is because...
....this is one dream that will never come true.
"Dream no small dreams for they have no power to move the hearts of men."