The world,
Tied up in shackles,
No where to run,
Never really letting go,
Keeping everything inside,
Can't find home,
These many streets,
I shall roam,
Always searching for happiness,
Hoping for a new change,
From the pain and agony,
We suffer,
People grope for the key,
But the only thing they find is grief,
Ten fingersāˆ’
Each one a prayer,
To a spirit that doesn't even care,
When help keeps us up,
No one can keep us down,
Friends lift us,
And hope gives us a hand,
Mysteries are mine to keep,
And yours shall remain,
What is the paradise we imagined?
Where is it when we really need it?
Disappeared, leaving ruins in its wake,
This cage of skull can be a prison cell,
As fear and uncertainty wash us away,
Will this darkness be here to stay?
We lay in the clouds but never look down,
Afraid to leave our realm of imagination,
Running wild with grim,
We stay hoping this world isn't there,
Smacked in the face by reality,
But in reality,
We can't hide away


Filtered World 7/11/10

AN: This was my first slam poem and it was a group thing. It's really choppy and this is the original version, but I did change the title to fit it.