Cliches

11-17-10 There is a point where our ideas must become something tangible if they are ever to mean anything.

Once upon a long time ago
Cliches were not masquerades
And I carried no desire to go
Once upon a yesterday
We gave birth to the cliches
How little did we know
How little did we grow
Who we are equals our inaction
Focus lost to foolish distraction
Dreams are ideas in need of traction
No answer can be posed as a question
Less we let truth allude us

 

The circle's path is fractured
Follow it to infinity
Never will we be captured
Once upon a tomorrow
We shall give birth to sorrow
Forged from imperfect masters
Masking their tears with laughter
Who we are is the sum of nothing
Our actions could have made us something
Dreams and ideas are the bells that ring
But sound alone cannot mean a thing
Less we allow it to move us