Wake Up

*Wake up… wake up… wake up…*

This is a nightmare they call reality.

People walk blindfolded, smiling, pretending.

Talking about wars, about politics, about headlines—

But they can’t see the wreckage in their own rooms.

*Wake up… wake up… wake up…*

Remember being a kid?

Yelling at Mom, *“I just want to be free!”*

No rules. No chains. Just fire in your hands.

She laughed, told me, *“You’ll see.”*

I see now, Mom.

I see too damn clearly.

*Wake up… wake up… wake up…*

I never feared dying as a kid.

Now, the thought lingers like smoke in my chest.

Sometimes it whispers, “Just let go.”

Life was simple then.

The world was cruel, but small.

Toys stolen, kids mean,

And Mom crying somewhere in the other room.

“What’s wrong, Mom? Did Santa betray you too?

Did you get coal like everyone else?”

*Wake up… wake up… wake up…*

I don’t know the point of any of this.

I don’t know what I want.

I don’t even know if I’m good for anything.

Losing my job didn’t break me—it exposed me.

Exposed the hollow inside my chest.

So… what now?

What am I gonna do?

*Wake up… wake up… wake up…*

The world is burning,

And no one notices.

I scream,

But the echo falls into empty eyes.

Wake up.

Or keep sleeping while the fire swallows us all.

*Wake up… wake up… wake up…*