Something known as Reality

I am a 

Work of art

but torn apart

never sleep

but always dream

in a world of hate

I try to appreciate

Here come closer

No don't go sir

You didn't even try to listen

You didn't even look at me

I tried and tried 

to understand 

But everyones' time

is in hot demand

Time growing still

or moving too fast

yet we wished we could

go back,

to the past

or even fast forward to the future

always wanting and never giving

always working and never living

Will it end

not until you stop

stop and think 

stop and listen

dreams don't come true 

by 9 to 5 living

dream harder and then let go

let your dreams become known

to be known as a work of art

I am a 

Work of art

still torn apart

but the dreams slowly become

something known as reality


This poem is about: 
Our world


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