he desperately wanted to grow up
but was stuck in Neverland
and didn’t know the way home
but was his home a home anymore
or was it just a place to hide
and get yelled at?
could that house be a home anymore
when he was outgrowing the walls
like something in Alice in Wonderland.
how was Alice doing anyways?
she fell down that rabbit hole a while ago
did she want to get home?
or was she happy in make believe?
then there were the other characters
they swarmed and shifted
and morphed into the new and the old
if a picture is worth a thousand words
how much is a thousand words worth?
what words are you bringing me?
truth or lies.
do you even know the difference anymore?
or are you just hiding everything anyways
and it’s all a story you’re making up on the fly.
do you think that earns you any points?
you may be clever and you’re proud of your wit
but is that anything when the lights go out?
can you hold yourself up
and make the fire when it’s needed
or is it all just smoke and mirrors?
get that film off of the lens
I’d rather see it clear and cry
then squint and keep trying to see through the fog
can you even say what you believe?
do you even know what you know?
is this something they’ve told you
and you’ve swallowed it?
can you create your own thoughts
or can you only just extrapolate
and aim to please?
can you create these from scratch?
can you see the mistakes you’ve made
and remember to say something about it?
are we trying to find yet another rug to brush them under?
if we speak out and up
does the ceiling move?
or is it stuck there forever?
do you like this box you’re in?
the familiar or the new
the comfortable or the unknown.
shot in the dark
context. I say.
let it reign free
and see what the lion brings home at the end of the night.