A dreamer’s lament

I shot for the moon:
Found no moon, no stars.
In space, whereverΒ you are,
It’s just vacant.

But I’ll face them and say
“Try again in a while”
It’s quite a practiced smile
I’m faking.

See,
In order to please
Everybody you meet
When they’re living their dreams,
All is as it seems,
They can’t hear you scream
When you burst at the seams.
You can’t be the king
Of your own murdered dream.
So you bleed.
You breath.

And you dream again.

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