Tangible
I’m tired of speaking in riddles.
Life is not poetic.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
Cause in reality it’s just hectic.
Waiting for something that’s never going to happen
Searching for something that I’ll never find
Dreaming of something just out of my grasp
Happiness must be a figment of the mind
Grasping through the darkness
For something you’ll never find.
Futilely hoping for release,
But knowing that you’re stumbling blind.
Until finally you find something tangible,
And hold onto it with all your might…
Only to find its insignificant
When brought into the light.