What Is Real Poem by Michael Lee Buchanan

I don’t know how you really feel
but i sometimes lay here by myself
and wonder what in this life is real.

Sometimes the colors will blend
and sometimes nature can bend
And time i have to spend is gone

Thoughts put into a single song
but every time i sing it,
i seem to sing it wrong.

And every time i find hope,
i find a lie
and this truth is too close to deny.

You know its here, waiting for me now
You know its real, hiding from me
You know i come now, to get it back

The mirror between real and fake,
is cracking and is going to break,
how can i not go insane, with so much i have to take

Hallucinate of a man with power,
and of a power, growing by the hour.
Hour to hour, day to day

What was that Pill,
And is this even real?
What is this pain i feel?

Do you exist?
Or are you just a figment,
created from the mist within my mind.

And where is the way out,
its something i cannot find
Am i truly that blind.

I know what it is that i search for,
but how can i ask for more,
when there are others so poor.

But the real question is what do i do?
When everything i thought i knew,
is escaping through the cracks

4000 cigarettes in 200 packs
smoke away the pain of knowing what i lack
death will have an opportunity to come to attack

Take me away,
i dont even care
so what can i say

Do i bid my farewells
to the men who hate and fear me
or do i say hello to those who could hear me

Screamed out within my soul
Dreamed of a new home
Conceived a thought, one of suicide

without ever having to pick up
neither the gun nor knife
but just let society kill me