Damaged Dreams

I have had this recurring dream

It has plagued me since fourteen.

In it, all I hear are my mother’s screams

Some things are better left unseen.

She’s begging me to look away

Trying to keep me innocent

Just for one more day,

But I can smell the scent

Of smoke, blood and gasoline

I feel like I’m in a movie scene.

I keep staring straight at the rubble

Of the building facing our own,

Hoping we’re safe in our little bubble,

Praying the jets will leave us alone.

The dream doesn’t really have an ending:

just an image of my inner child fading.

Lately, I’ve been having a different dream

Where I’m staring into a machine

at little blue thumb-ups on a screen.

There’s a video of a politician

Saying exactly what he means

The world is green, the air is clean.

He preaches love, kindness and serenity

And all of Earth’s beings enjoy prosperity.

I wake up from my hallucinations

To missiles, gun fights, executions

Humans will want what they do not need

They are but victims of their own greed.

Now that I am finally awake,

I understand what is at stake

The blue fingers point to a virtual sky

I wave to the little girl in my dream: goodbye.