I
Beneath all the defenses
And the disguises that are not make-believe
There’s a person that wants to be noticed.
Why all the make-believe?
Why should I strive to force or employ these
Make-believe people to lie to me-
and themselves?
If they were to say, “Hi, how are you . . .?”,
They’d be liars.
Because they don’t really give a damn;
They don’t really care.
The world is not a figment of my
Imagination . . .
It should be.
I watch it on television, I know;
It seems so cold and alienated(ing);
But when I go outside,
I can’t seem to distinguish . . .
I thought I turned-off the make-believe
Before I left home?
There is no love thy neighbor;
There is no ‘til death do us part;
There is no helping hand;
No, there is no, “I stand by you
And with you”.
No!
I know ,
Cause I’ve been searching
For that real world
Or am I looking for a make-believe
World?
Where for every man there’s a woman
. . . a make-believe world in a real world
Or is it a real world in a make-believe
world . . .
?
II
Hey, would someone please love me;
Listen and want to understand . . .
Help me?
. . . why can’t they hear me!?
I, I hear them.
I’m so cold,
Won’t somebody hug me back . . .
That’s my pillow!?
But it’s still cold;
In the shining sun I seem to freeze!
?
Make-believe love,
She truly cares;
She loves me, she won’t leave me!
She helps me . . .
Make- believe . . .
?
I must wake –up;
I can’t stay here forever,
Even though, it’s warm
And the Sun shines
Her love washes my soul like rain from
Heaven
I’m not choosey . . .
Believe that?
I must ask too much of this
Make real believe world.
Look, she’s looking at me?
No,
I must stop dreaming!
My name?
No,
You don’t want to know!
?
When you hug me like that . . .
It feels that 85o F, you,
But, there’s 6 inches of snow . . .
No, you aren’t . . . I, I’m afraid
You’re not for real . . .
You love me?
I must, wake-up . . .
But she feels so . . .
But dreams always seem real . . .
III
Faster, I’m almost, almost, almost;
Why, why can’t I -
Frustration!
The pain of reality has invaded my dream.
. . . I know, cause
I’ve been searching for the real world
Or am I looking for a make-believe world?
Where for every man there’s a woman
And the law is, love thy neighbor;
Here’s a helping hand,
Till death do us part
. . . a make-believe world
In a real world.
Or is it a real world in a make believe world?
I’m not choosey . . .
I must ask too much of this
Make real believe world?
Non e Vero?
By
Sammie L. Carter
Copyright 23 Sept.1977 4:15 a.m.
Posted in Poetry, Relationship, Socialization
Tags: complex reality, condradicted, fear, Feelings, Jazz, Pain, Romance, Searching