The Onlooker and the Prestigious One

You watched their dreams.

They marched as numbers down the confines of their walls.

Piecing together meanings and moments down from where they came.

Finding some kind of reason to it all in numeric banter.

You are puzzled you understand like some misguided astronaut in spaces not in space you know.

Trying to grab some sense of it all yet clutching at things that all fall together and fall like sand in between your fingers.

Hands that grasp for some kind of reason in it all and come up defenseless and with no leverage.

Take comfort in the fact all is not lost, for hands that reach can also embrace and are alive.

Boundless effortlessly free and wound like the dreams we reach for as the world moves around us.

Giving all that we so desire though giving all we desire.

Making our skin and ourselves into illusion the very illusion we do not have.

As we find comfort in truth and the lies we tell ourselves to carry on.

When all we ever knew and have known is all that we ever were.

This is how tragic men find peace in their pain if not for joy then for lying about our sorrow.

In this we come full circle and become as we are and who we see ourselves to be.

For there are two ways we see ourselves, one is the way we actually are and the other is the way we see ourselves to be.

For this we are liars and truth tellers though we see ourselves to never be wrong to others if we only really lie to ourselves.

Which in the end of the lie we find we've only truly been hurting ourselves.

For this the dishonest one is only held in contempt if they lash out at others with their lies.

This is how we learn to forgive and also hold our fears inside appropriately.

We realize our wrongs and our lies can only be harmful if we lie about them.

For this as they will one day dream will finally set them free.

On that day they will cry for all they've known and all they haven't.