The dreams he weaves
are echoes of my dreams,
loves his life, as me
Mourns the grief of his kins,
the same way I do
& grins watching his kids laugh,it is he.
The lines of a grin,a smile on our faces are in such a contrast
from the lines,lines demarcating us,
borders turning us's into they's.
lines letting us forget that we dream,
we live ,we laugh,we cry
the same way for the same things,for the same nights & days.
I've heard that some ammo's were fired this way of the line
to make some dreams sleep here
& the line this way responded Oh! so bravely
slaying many hopes of liven there.
when boundaries fill with life
& lives circumscribe themselves in boundary lines
Dreams then become crimes,
aspiring for a life,just despairing sighs.