What is left to say
About our humdrum daily lives?
Monday to Sunday all year round
In time manufactured by mankind.
Monotonous mazes of standardised building blocks.
Daytime TV all timetabled and scheduled
For brainwashed, mindless zombies:
Heads immersed in mobile phones
Or faces bathed in television light.
Crime ridden streets await us
When we venture forth
To pre-appointed places
In a world we call "Routine".
Little wonder then
That Imagination soon takes over
At least for me.
Heading off to Planet Paul
For flights of fancy
Fuelled by Star Trek
And Battlestar Gallactica to name but two
Of my favourite shows.
For I love Space
And anything else that lies beyond
Of the Here and Now.
Why do you write?
They ask as if Confession is required.
I stumble on my words
Trying to explain
How I simply have to write.
For I never can stop dreaming
And once I dream
Then I simply have to share
Whatever I've dreamt
With all of you.
© PB 18\12\2018.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem