Dreams No More

I am so lonely,
Hiding in this
Attic Dark,
Where I wish to be,
A skylark!

If only,
I wasn't so lonely,
And could dream the dreams
I once dreamt!

I used to be able
To soar oh so high,
In the night's moonlit sky!

And pretend the weed
Was a great tree instead!

And then I was whisked away,
Back to reality.
"Where is it?'' you might ask,
I'll never tell,
For it will never sell.

And now I must get back
To my task,
Of doing nothing,
Nothing at all.

And so I sit here now,
In Despair,
With not even dreams for company.

For though darkness is nice,
And anything can happen in it,
It does take away imagination,
After a long period of time.

Wondering, waiting,
For Nazies to come,
If they ever will,
And get me.

I do this mindlessly.

Some time ago,
A boy came to me and said,
"Yer dead, aren't ye?"

I nod, for it's true,
I am dead.
I can't dream,
So I can't be bothered
With anything.

I once said,
"If I can't dream,
I might as well be dead."

I may still be breathing,
But that is all,
I'm not living,
As I see nothing and do nothing at all.