ILLUSIONS - an amateur's poem

What is this world without illusions? Stories that fill the blank spaces of our lives that however don't have an end. And end we desperately crave to know.

ILLUSIONS

An amateur’s poem.

 

How did it end? Nobody knows.

I do though…

There is a dazzling haze covering it up

like a perfect alibi.

Its illusionistic nature is like its last charm.

Flashing before everyone’s eyes

but the world is blind at times.

 

So my illusions are forgotten

in an old trunk under their beds.

Dust covers it like sweet snow.

Hiding the truth in plain sight is not always the best idea, they say

Yet they ignore it when they see it, anyway.

 

Who are you to judge? Am I allowed to cry?

Dissolving in the mist to run from reality,

patching up the wounds in my soul at the end of the world.

Getting sore eyes when my mind’s out of control,

Leaving the leaves that ease it on top of my desk,

wishing that you would’ve never come back.

Why’s it so difficult to pretend to be sad?

 

Maybe it’s because you don’t know the end.

Author's Note

I have absolutely no idea how to write a poem, this is random.