The shell of the dream world
I've built around myself -
the world I wish could be,
the way I wish I could live -
comes crumbling down,
not slowly by bits,
but an avalanche of ruined dreams
and unmet goals.

And the innocent bystanders,
curious and caring,
that I've kept out for their own safety
or unwisely let in for my comfort -
they are crushed among the falling rubble
to lie buried amongst the ruins.

Again, and again,
and still I rebuild.

And still they fall down.

All because I am weak,
too scared to give up
the company of distractions
and be alone with my thoughts,
afraid that with no one to hurt but myself,
I would.

The life of a hermit
is vastly underrated.

Not a life of glory, no;
but at least I begin to appreciate
the wisdom of that sacrifice.

07/31/2004

Author's Note: Oh, god, I don't even know about this one. It just came out. I've felt more and more like a walking disaster lately. Please, feedback, comments, etc.

Posted on 07/31/2004
Copyright © 2024 Amanda J Cobb