Without A Dream Poem by George Samuel

When you're done counting my ills,
Tell me, how earnest is my zeal?
How terror wraps my meals,
And love my passion chill!
In the dark, where I swallow my pills.

Show me the zeros in my years,
Call out the errors in my yes,
When I couldn't resist my youth,
Life was back and forth,
When I arrive from the South.

If you lie over my name,
Carry it about with blame,
Like I'm the reason you're lame,
But the truth is we're not the same we chase different fame.

If I have one mission,
Just to free my soul,
From the fear to fall,
The force to end like a doll,
Without a dream to rule.