dreams

who is right,

who is wrong?

I am like a beached whale,

struggling,

turning,

pulsing,

heaving,

fighting,

rolling,

rising,

falling;

who is right,

who is wrong?

the silence remains,

undisguised,

unspoken,

forgotten,

hiding behind

darkened windows,

shadows within the

night,

silky smooth,

hot and bothered,

passionately pure,

blends of this,

shades of that,

pieces of the

unfinished puzzle,

none of it real,

none of it genuine,

none of it true;

who is right,

who is wrong?

within these walls

are many tales,

much laughter,

rivers of sorrow,

oceans of tears,

pools of sadness,

victims drowning

within their own blood;

we are all right,

we are all wrong;

winners and losers,

fighters and failures,

lovers and haters,

innocent and guilty,

doomed and redeemed;

together;

this is all there is,

this is all we have;

I cannot dream

what I do not know,

I cannot know

what I do not dream.

.

.