Dreams Are Sometimes Fake Realities Poem by Mohabeer Beeharry

You do not care about life
I do.
You do not care about who you are.
I do.
You do not care why you are here,
I do.

I care about who made me.
Why I am here
And where I am going.

The horizon is far,
The fringes of mortality
And immortality are blurring.

Where is the meaning,
The great Meaning that says that life is precious,
That being man is being nearer to the Maker?

I have seen the dead,
They are many.
I have seen the living
I have seen the tears, they are undriable.

I wish sometime, like hibernating animals
To groove in and forget, forget
This painful reality
And live in fake dreams.