Reality

Nothing matters except what gives us hope,
these are the days where our fingers
are bottle stoppers which prevent our slippery
past from spilling into the present.
You have an angel’s heart and you carry hope
in your blood stream,
the rest of us are silver bodies ,
we are bill boards
wishing for love in return of love
that was given with our eyes shut tight.
These are the days when we wait,
we wait for someone to save us
whilst protesting not to care about anyone,
or anything and when opinions are hung
for existing because we dare do more than dream.
You’re everything we wish we could be,
but reality is a chalk stain which we carry
and its etches its way into our eyesight,
so are shadows follow us waiting to shine.