I sometimes dream of happiness,
A time when people love each other,
Where we could solve things without cruelty,
Where one could trust their mothers.
I sometimes dream of companions,
People I could speak with everyday,
Over a cup of tea or coffee,
Never to walk away.
I sometimes dream of peace,
Where people let each other live,
Where we appreciate the small things,
Where it wasn't a crime to give.
I sometimes dream of a future,
Where things only happen for the best,
And sometimes I pray to a god I don't believe in,
So that I can put my dreams to rest.

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And yet, even as you dream of drowning,
You dream of someone pulling you from the depths.
Tell me, do you want to die?
Or do you just want to be saved?

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I always wondered why people told me,
That I should strive to be brave,
Faster, stronger, smarter, better,
As though life were a race.
And sometimes I still wonder,
As I go about my day,
Staring at every red line and mark,
Wondering if there's no other way.
Maybe we're not the best at what we do,
And sometimes we make mistakes,
Does that mean we're incompetent?
That everything we've done is fake?
I wondered why they told me to be cunning,
To become exactly what I fear,
It took me until I grew up to realize,
That bleeding hearts have no place here.

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The whole world is an oyster,
And an oyster makes pearls,
From little grains of sand,
Sparkling, valuable souls.
The entire world is a stage,
And everyone wears a mask,
Playing the role they were born for,
With no one needing to ask.
The universe runs on fate,
That pulls us by a string,
A path set before us,
Whether you dance or sing.
But not every oyster makes a pearl,
Not everyone's born for the stage,
And sometimes fate forgets us,
Leaving us trapped in a cage.

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I walk like the reaper on the battlefield,
Where there are no graves,
But the dead are buried beneath sand and rubble,
And not even their names are saved.
Children should have no place in my realm,
Where little dolls are strewn to the side,
When terror pervades in the heart of a city,
When humanity is tossed aside.
I walk upon the ruins of a city,
Scythe and blade in hand,
But nothing could be crueler than this,
The destruction of an innocent land.
And only once can I ask you,
Is this truly humanity's worth and depth?
Because when my scythe finds you,
You will remember you are all equal in death.

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Perhaps sometimes you should take a moment,
To stop and look around,
Because it could give you insights,
Especially when you're down.
So stop and take a moment,
To appreciate everyone who stayed,
Who showed you kindness at your lowest,
No matter the price they paid.
And even if you never realized it,
Chances are you were never alone,
But maybe you pushed away who loved you,
And those who made you feel home.
For if you ignore what's happening,
And ignore everyone who's godsend,
The wear and tear on your heart,
May never be mended again.

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I wonder how the world would change,
If people would just ask why,
Maybe the person who's hiding away,
Has a reason for her sighs.
Maybe the person who's refusing,
Is afraid of something she knows,
The fact she keeps her photos away,
Because of the grief they sow.
Maybe the child didn't want to walk there,
Because she was terrified,
And so she stuck to her no,
Even though the adults wouldn't listen to her cries.
Maybe the person who isn't here anymore,
Had a reason for pulling the trigger,
But what's the point if no one asks,
Why she wanted to be six feet under?

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Thousand of beautiful visions,
Of home, love, desires,
Many more tossed and torn away,
Thrown into a fire.
Never by the dreamers,
But the ones who listened to them,
Who met those dreams with scorn,
As though they had the right to condemn.
And strings bound the dreamers,
Marionettes forced upon a stage,
To live a life they didn't want,
Carrying within them a hidden rage.
And so I walked down the old church road,
Listening to heartbroken screams,
As it stretched on for miles and miles,
The graveyard of dreams.

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I once saw a little flower,
Growing unfettered by the street,
Her stalks tall and steady,
Roots breaking into the concrete.
I watched her everyday as she grew,
A little taller and brighter,
Despite no sunlight falling upon her,
But her color never grew lighter.
But one day she'd just vanished,
When the day before she stood tall,
And I wondered who had done it,
Pulled out her roots and let her fall.
Sometimes I wonder how she would've grown,
If you'd let her be,
But why would you uproot something so beautiful,
Was it something you did not want to see?

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I want to one day paint a picture,
That shows everyone what they could be,
That dreams really can come true,
Even if the present seems bleak.
I want to one day paint a melody,
That would soar across the sky,
It would reach the far ends of the universe,
Or at least it would try.
I want to someday paint a story,
Maybe it would be my own,
I'll write you into a whole chapter,
And all the love I could've shown.
I want to someday paint a wonder,
That would hold a little meaning,
Maybe not to the entire world,
But at least to someone who is dreaming.

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