Get Real

August 4, 2009
By Narki BRONZE, Sunnyside, New York
Narki BRONZE, Sunnyside, New York
4 articles 3 photos 0 comments

“Get real,” you say
Your words evaporate through the city air
The toxic fumes invisible.
You point to the screen,
The actors in their makeup laugh
In the idiot rich guy’s beachfront mansion.
My words are black pixels
Painting something on your mind’s eye—
Something almost substantial.
“I like their conversation”
You remark in your accent,
After listening to scripted sitcoms.
The people on my pages weep,
And wonder at the magic
More real than daily life.

The author's comments:
I think that dreams are more meaningful than going through the motions, hence the poem.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book