Dementia & Heartstring

I will never be more than I am 

living in the unattainable race of happiness 

Chasing down the American dream in denial. 

I will never find out what hard work entails, nor discover its rewards earned. 

I will always dream, with no real means to achieve it. 

I will gaze into the night thinking of forests, 

Moving through the woods of my mind 

Carving out a little spot to hide from reality. 

I found love, stretched beyond a place where I cannot touch feet, 

I fight, fight for a future that was never free. 

Remembering the past while forgetting the times, 

Seeking my wants, missing: every thing. 

Dementia in Heartstring: 

Plucking its tune to resonate sound, 

Reverberations from the wishing well no coins to throw now. . . 

As all of the others I have.. are tossed. 

Glimmering back, shine the coins from the hole 

An opus of sound, bouncing off of the stones. 

A wish for a want, but what would I know? 

Screaming to the bottom: a song to the soil. 

I raised a white flag: in a truce for peace 

Talking to ghosts, of empty dreams; 

In an empty room, with an empty pause, 

In an empty place: just me and my thoughts. 

Does this feeling felt, feel both ways? 

Does an echo expand in Telemetry? 

Wishing an end, to live again, on lonely nights, where no one sits. 

For a second chance, for a second breath, For a second life, and for a second wish. 

To travel beyond my means I dream – I dream, I dream, to fill this well...