It’s like we’re trapped in a room with no way out.
We’re talking to the walls and making imaginary friends,
Because that’s all we seem to be friendly with these days.
We’re smiling to our self imagining the families searching and searching,
We soon frown because we notice we’re still yet to be found.
Stories are told to little kids with hoping faces,
About princesses stowed away in castles in the middle of lava and volcanoes.
It’s like they don’t have to worry about what’s really happening around them,
They’re just listening and learning about things that really don’t exist.
The beautiful children grow to be wonderful adults,
All of which passed through broken families.
They would hide within story book,
To escape the fits of screaming their parents seemed to have.
Life’s only been a fairytale through all this,
These adults that grew to love them soon left them abandoned.
Going through the dusty boxes in the back of their mind,
Throwing away distant memories and forgotten images.
We’re forgetting our future tasks and goals,
Looking at things for how they are now not the big picture.
Suppose that we could remember our forgotten details,
Maybe we could manage to get around the wall that is built upon what we don’t want to remember.
Maybe in the end,
We could all get along.
