Empty - Poem by Bragg Adocio
I'm writing with an empty pen.
I'm out of ideas, I'm going out of my mind.
I try to remember and return to the time before time,
The time when everything made sense and nothing made dollars.
The time when love was 'like, like' and unspoken because similie sounded so much better.
The time when metaphor wasn't used because you had nothing better to say but because what you really had to say was so intense you had to soften it up for those who might have ears and have learned to listen.
I'm trying to get back to the time when it was cool to listen, and majestic to speak; as long as you were speaking your mind.
I'm trying to get back to the time when I only had one thing on my mind.
the time, when asked to describe it, I'd paint a picture with a thousand words.
I'm trying to get back to that one time when I knew who I was, when things had more substance and depth and meaning, what do I mean? I mean that time when things were simple enough to seed dreams and strong enough to hold imaginations, big enough to hold hope and aspirations, and still leave room for thoughts like 'us' and 'we'.
I'm trying to get back to the time when love was a well known subject and easy to write about, easier to dream about, and not so hard to obtain.
I'm on my way back to a time that many now deem non-existant, a figment of my imagination, the dreams of a mad-man. But I'll tell you what: I haven't dreamt since I left.
There's nothing left, there's only voices that fade in and out of daydreams that I can't differentiate from my memories.
I think I remember you, then I realize that all my memories have purple skies, and with this truth, a part of me dies.
I'm in denial. I'm in the Nile with a mission and a rowboat looking for a sea of dreams.
I'm trying to get back to a dream I had long ago. Back to a world that I wish was a memory. Back when it was fun to write and exciting to read. Back to a time that I wish was the future, because it's so much easier to wait.
I can't wait, I can't wait to see those gates into my mind, cross that line into my past and write. I just wanna write. I wanna write about a dream I no longer have and memories I'm not sure I experienced.
Whether I did or not, I'd like to make it back there, if not just once, just for a moment, a fleeting second, just long enough to write.
Comments about Empty by Bragg Adocio
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.