I left for fame.
Cause I know everyone wants it desperately.
Little do I know it's just fake.
That only lasts long in my dummy mind.

Like the flames that burn every leaf.
Is it just me who acts deaf?
This is all just hallucinations.
Who only ends up in my carnations.
I wonder if I could at least be that "smart".
At least.

Ideas of million dreams.
Was supposed to hold it until I made it happen.
But you know?
I just came with that busted coffee cream.
No dream. Just an imagination that I create.

Disappointment. Horrible.
Till I made it to another payment.
What payment?
A Punishment for my terrible soul.

Now I wonder how it's like,
Dreaming without actions is painful.
Leaving for fame is shameful.
Keeping to yourself is hurtful.

Does a better place always exist for me?


© writerturk