Between the Lines
Just Another Fantasy
I woke too late and slept too long,
decisions forced by written tears.
My heart had windows, hazed in dew
invisible, illusion's fears.
Regretting never, feeling's shame,
nor moments spent in tenderness.
Just another fantasy,
a trick of mind to real, suppress.
Unrestrained in world of mind
those fantasies imagine more
than ever could or would entail
in world of real, of heart's explore.
I am no challenge in these dreams
or maybe nightmares ride the stress
of fairy tales, fictitious thoughts
of give and take, no more, no less.
Never poet would I be
if not for life, it's turn around.
I amble reckless, swerve the course,
to stray away from being bound.
Life's a gamble, two hands I've lost,
never good at betting games.
So my rhyme continues on
spinning dreams with empty frames.
Faceless, spirits press me on
pushing here and prodding there.
I stand before the eyes of you
with only poet's words to share.
I've tried to stay my words of rhyme,
for those who feel sometimes they're forced.
But they just flow from want in real
of nothing held when love's divorced.
A fantasy within a dream
of make-believe, a bubble's rise,
staggered fiction on the edge
of tattered romance, behind mind's eyes.
"Love is not blind - It sees more and not less, but because it sees more, it is willing to see less."