Chuck Ringquist Jr
The Truth In Dreams
A memory etched in the echoes of time though fate and fabrication.
The mind knows no bounds of emotion and elation.
What was once warm and welcoming, now cold and contemplating.
What was the memory you held close, now slowly fading.
Take it upon you to remember what was dear.
The inevitable end of reality is always drawing near.
Let her voice sing to you, reminding you that nothing is lost.
Yet never forget that warm summer's night despite any cost.
We are told to leave history behind and move onward ever faster.
Reminded to travel forward, our futures we should master.
But truth be told, the further we move on,
The more we drift apart becoming the prodigal wayward son.
Who are we if we don't remember the past?
Soulless husks, just another form in the mass.
Take it upon yourselves to heed my words of warning.
The only way to know yourself is to dream through the morning.
Make life your own and never wake up.
Feel what is truth deep within your gut.
Follow you heart through every desire.
Because in the end, reality is the true liar.
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Comments about this poem (The Truth In Dreams by Chuck Ringquist Jr )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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