Treasure Hill

What interest have you in my thoughts, my wishes
Of how I daydream or how I dream at night
What does it matter to you what I read,
What I write, what I make, what I create
If it isn't aligned with yours it's insignificant
If it isn't already in your thoughts,
in your wishes,
it's invisible

You're too attached to daily appointments
To promises that you made to yourself
That the world follows with gaping eyes
Like they'd never think to follow mine
My wishes was always too abstract
For anyone to even consider as real

I miss even the darkest times of living
Then at least I felt I fought for something
Then there was something more than illusions
at the edge of the treasure hill
And there was something more than just dread
To kill

Couldn't you just once open this wine with me
Finish it while speaking of unspeakable things
And what you think of when you dare to think
Couldn't you just once stop, and listen,
and find my words meaningful

What interest do you have in what I value
What interest do you have in any of my visions
Since visions never fed anyone or paid their days
They're rendered useless, aren't they
Useless in your eyes

You could stretch to agreeing they were beautiful
but soon enough you'd be lost again in fleeting errands
Soon enough you'd have forgotten it all
What we might have shared over bottles of wine
What you might have found meaningful
beneath the starry sky
would be useless, wouldn't it
Useless in your eyes