my dreams

My dreams—
They're what silence my screams.
They're what I live in,
Where I go to escape the crowd.
I've gotten my head so far in the clouds,
My inner self is hidden—
Hidden beneath a shroud of doubts.
My mind is a periscope,
Always searching beyond what it knows,
Beyond the obvious,
Beyond those that want to be noticed.
What I find arcane and mysterious,
Is simple and plain;
The jump from nothing to serious,
Is terribly misplaced.
If I was left in the dark,
Far from where any one goes,
I'd find the light faster than my nose.
My path’s never been remotely stark,
Loopty-loops here and there,
Lines running everywhere,
Through thick and thin,
I never even know where to begin,
But if it just so happened to be,
That I ever fell to reality,
Where the clouds are make-believe,
Where I’d be forced to lift my shroud,
I would finally see,
Where to begin my journey.
And what's the fun in that?
Knowing where to go,
Where everything's at,
Having a drawn path,
That drives the unknown to show,
Saves you from mistakes’ wrath,
Keeps you out of trouble,
Safe in your own little bubble,
O, for all those who have their futures set,
They're missing life’s concept.