Stone

If the world is changing
I never asked to change
I never wanted to be
one more part of the mass
locking my dreams in closets
murdering my feelings
being someone
I never thought I could be.

My dreams are well kept on my fingers
but they are escaping
they become balloons
floating in the open air
getting tangled up
in branches
pink,blue,yellow
colors of innocence.

Why has the music stopped?
Why have the people left?
What can we do now
when all our world has become
just as tough as a stone.




Poetry by Eva
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Written on 2010-05-29 at 13:34

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2010-05-30


NicholasG
I suppose, in a world of stone, we have that much more in the way of improvements to dream about Eva. A very timely piece about todays challenges.
Thanks, Nick
2010-05-29