We call upon these truths
Or at least
That's the name we give them.
Label the world and keep it in check.

For too long I’ve felt against tomorrow.
Half waken eyelids
Weary of a spark that lights  nothing.
No white mistake on this pure black canvas.

Present my conscience as exhibit B.
Footing lost and still slipping
Along a half-assed path called future.
Presence bends fog images along self reality.

When do dreams stop at the horizon?
Its only a few days
Till your back to being miserable.
Comes these times you’ll only carry the care.

No worries,
Just paint yourself a pretty face.
But know it will be stolen
In the coming months.