BreakCanon
09-22-07, 11:29 PM
I dream of genies,
Leering greedily at the scenery,
Obscenity realized only after inhaling the greenery,
Rub it the right way and a few wishes may be yours,
Just don’t make it your business to make list making a chore,
Scores of men have endeavored to render their’s clever,
Only to realize that their choices severed them from the population,
In frustration, many a mans second wish entails reversion,
Thus requiring an entirely unnecessary diversion.
Pull the curtains across your eyes to block out the skies,
Walk across the vacant stage blindfolded and numb,
Stumble past the barriers and reach the Holy Grail,
I can’t tell you what I found, but it is what dreams entail.
Chasing needles in haystacks will fill you with holes,
Empty you of innocence and prevent normal growth,
You will have nothing to show for it,
Except for a few useless needles,
But the quest in itself is a metaphor for freedom.
Abounding hands may grasp at the pillars of freedom,
While uttering hymns praising the god who provided the eyes to see them,
It’s a matter of finding your place in the line,
In time to fulfill your desires without having to lie.
Success is not an end in-and-of- itself,
The fact that you are breathing is success enough,
What makes a life successful is not the wish fulfilled,
It’s the knowledge that somewhere there was a void that you filled.
Leering greedily at the scenery,
Obscenity realized only after inhaling the greenery,
Rub it the right way and a few wishes may be yours,
Just don’t make it your business to make list making a chore,
Scores of men have endeavored to render their’s clever,
Only to realize that their choices severed them from the population,
In frustration, many a mans second wish entails reversion,
Thus requiring an entirely unnecessary diversion.
Pull the curtains across your eyes to block out the skies,
Walk across the vacant stage blindfolded and numb,
Stumble past the barriers and reach the Holy Grail,
I can’t tell you what I found, but it is what dreams entail.
Chasing needles in haystacks will fill you with holes,
Empty you of innocence and prevent normal growth,
You will have nothing to show for it,
Except for a few useless needles,
But the quest in itself is a metaphor for freedom.
Abounding hands may grasp at the pillars of freedom,
While uttering hymns praising the god who provided the eyes to see them,
It’s a matter of finding your place in the line,
In time to fulfill your desires without having to lie.
Success is not an end in-and-of- itself,
The fact that you are breathing is success enough,
What makes a life successful is not the wish fulfilled,
It’s the knowledge that somewhere there was a void that you filled.