Holly Flame Maxey

is it too late????

I was born a dreamer and a poet.

There is no judgement, no expectation
When a person is alone
No pain, no conflict
Only echoes of what you believe
To be the truth

Reality is
What and how you believe it to be
I am a graveyard
Death surrounds me
Without a heart, there is no life
Without love
There is no hope, no dreams
No desire, no motivation

We become the walking dead
Alive yet walking blind
Eye’s burned out by darkness

Today I chose to wake up
but …..is it too late
Is my pathway to companionship
Blocked by my own fear of changing
My internal reality

Every day I cry from this pain
Every night I beg for the
Sweet release of sleep
So I can dream of a way to escape
The prison of my own making
Designed by memories of my past

© Poetry.com