When no one is looking <br />I count the steps <br />in front of my house <br />no reason apparent. <br /> <br />I linger in front of photographs <br />that resemble you <br />and I allow <br />cruelly <br />the contrast <br />between you <br />and my present life. <br /> <br />Disappointment <br />is harder to bare sometimes <br />in real life <br />catapulting us <br />to alternative realities <br />concocted by our mourning minds <br />which seek those media dreams <br />of the perfect life <br />of escape from the flesh and blood realities <br />surrounding us <br />introducing to us <br />dripping disappointments <br />in self, others and family. <br /> <br />How guilt-dripping is this dynamic <br />where reality is seen to be <br />cruelly oppressive <br />compared to those media visions <br />concocted for us <br />by movies and tv. <br /> <br />Murdering false dreams <br />is what, therefore, the children <br />must do <br />in order to grow up <br />and become part of humanity. <br /> <br />Otherwise <br />a grieving shadow <br />that seeks that happily ever after <br />becomes a mind dripping <br />of false realities.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/murdering-dreams/
