To

Letters written to never send,
Islands from in the mind,
Thoughts that float on endlessly,
With hearts we can not find,
Words that float on an endless sea,
Stirred by random thought,
With no anchor to hold us close,
In the dreams that time forgot.
 
 
Solid ground beneath our feet,
Yet with no tie to the land,
The sea becomes humanity,
With each island a single man,
Surrounded by faces yet still alone,
In society’s lustfull greed,
The island floats with the current,
Away from and towards it’s need.
 
 
So many islands floating about,
Some noticed yet pushed away,
Though with the currents they could return,
Now lost forever in yesterday,
Analyzed and scrutinized,
Judged for floating by,
Condemned for not being in the herd,
For not allowing a dream to die.
 
 
Some might think it sad to see,
That island with no home,
But home can live in the heart,
With the minds ideals and thoughts unknown,
As that island floats around,
It might seem that island’s alone,
In this aspect we’re all the same,
For each island, earth’s our home.

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