Reality differs for each of us,
And we accept it more or less,
Hoping to find the things we chase,
Before the beating stops in our chest,
We chase a dream that’s not our own,
Ignoring what lives inside,
And when reality slaps us in the face,
It’s ourselves that we then hide.
We race forward with uncertain steps,
Towards a destination that’s unknown,
Reaping all the fruits,
Which through our lives we’ve sown,
The here and now can be unpleasant,
But there’s nothing that’s guaranteed,
There’s nothing sure but life and death,
And if wounded we all bleed.
Can reality become a fantasy,
When from life we seek to escape,
A trip that takes us far away,
To thoughts we can not shake,
We think of how things got this far,
When something inside feels broken,
A place where your entire being,
Hinges on words softly spoken.
Can a reality exist in memory only,
Each day becoming something less,
And when we reach for that golden ring,
Is the reaching the real test,
Reality can become both pleasure and pain,
A testing of all we dream,
But a dream can become all there is,
Is it reality that in the night screams.
Is this life a product of pain,
Or is pleasure our driving force,
And as we look forward to tomorrow,
Is our yesterday filled with remorse,
Reality is the place we are,
Not where at one time we were,
And all the emotions hiding within,
Without knowing are our cure.
Reality holds all we are,
And all we’ve ever been,
While being happy is tied to love,
Since the day that it begins,
On the horizon dark clouds may be looming,
But our reality holds both clouds and sun,
And love is worth holding onto,
From the day it was begun.