I reach for heaven
But my hands fall short
As the lights tips my fingers
Clouds do part
And I rays do shine
But where I lie
They do not
Night encloses
The stars twinkle
And my eyes refuse to rest
For where ever I look
I see beauty
And I think of a way to get there
But when I wake
In the morning
I lie in a pile of ruble
Torn structures surround me
And dust kicks up at my shoes
Has world war three happened?
And has death refused?
Why am I still lingering
In place where death has come?
Why am I the only one
Left to roam this dump
There is no sky to brighten my world
Yet I see each figure clearly
The nights aren’t cool
And the days aren’t warm
There is no temperature here
At night I dream
But I dream of nothing
Yet figures dance in my head
I am not myself
Yet I claim this shell
And my stomach churns in agony
If I escape
If I ever do
I have no thoughts to think
I dream of reaching for heaven
And always falling short
I dream of the stars
And the ways they twinkle
And light on my finger tips
If I hold an apple
And you hold an orange
Who is the better man
But if I hold nothing
You hold both
Who is the better person
Should call out your name
Would you reply
Or would you walk away
If I should die
And you should see
Would you walk away
What if’s and how’s comes
That is what I am
Am I a person
Or merely a thought
Or am I an imagination
Maybe if I reached for the stars
And dreamed of heaven
Some good will come
But I continue to reach for heaven
And only think of the stars.