Realism and Pessimism

Well, my friend,
I hear of all the things you could be,
A replacement of a void, a new place to grow into,

Well, my friend,
I know only of what I know you are
A truth discovered, a new beginning.


Dreams and wishes of the future,
Remember how it was, first when we began,
Nothing but innocent mouthful listening and ears humming.

Now look at us,
at the crossroads of following the dreams that you introduced,
that kept me alive.
Even more alive now that I understand all the things that I learned.

Now where do we go…?

Is your voice nothing but a mistress?
Are my words nothing but good night stories for both of us?

Well, my friend,
I am a dreamer,
I love both of us, and the future of it all.

Well, old friend,
I’m an optimistic realist,
I believe in both of us, and the future-you to come.

Hope is, for them,
Thrown into their unknown words of future,
trying to add a meaning to their own uncontrolled life.

You, old friend,
are but truth with which I have grown,
such that it shapes my future.


Luck becomes skill,
Inspiration becomes curiosity,
Talent becomes determination,
Love becomes a fiery passion.


Alas, old friend,
We remain, as meaningless as their hope;
A meaningless future in their eyes and programmed responses.

For them, old friend,
feeling is nothing but a readied reaction,
prepared at birth through a long time of shoving.

Alas, old friend,
I remain, as stubborn as my hope;
a dream to be nurtured, as we were.

For them, old friend,
We are nothing but dreamers in their pessimistic eyes,
While we are optimists in a real world.


Alas, old friend,
they do not understand.

Alas, old friend,
we mean nothing in their ears.

not in mine.


Not in mine.


About saedt

An immature empath, a music hobbyist, an architect, and a dreamer.

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