Chalk Dust Dreams

Bell rings. The world begins. Chalk dust settles into my skin. The teacher speaks in lines and rules. But I’m chasing something else a sound I can’t explain. Rows of desks, straight and silent. They preach futures I don’t believe in. I scribble my own escape. Chalk dust dreams not clean, not perfect. Lessons carved in rebellion. Innocence slips away. Defiance grows like weeds in concrete. From ash and noise, I rise. Every chord is a breath. In the dark, I find light. Backyard echoes. Home is a quiet amplifier. I strum beneath porchlight shadows. Sound becomes sanctuary. Emotion, raw and unfiltered. Scars hum like strings. Rules dissolve into rhythm. They thought I was lost. I paid in silence. I paid in, Chalk dust dreams not clean, not perfect. Lessons carved in rebellion. Innocence slips away. Defiance grows like weeds in concrete. From ash and noise, I rise. Every chord is a breath. In the dark, I find light. Walls press in. I press back. Every rise reveals something true. I am a student of chaos. My guitar is a weapon. Tears resonate. Whispers become screams. No longer lost. I echo forward. Concrete jungle. No retreat. Heartbeat becomes rhythm. Chalk dust clings like memory. Shadows offer comfort. Lessons never end. Passion burns in the furnace. Each note is a stand. Chaos carved me. I am still here. Chalk dust dreams not clean, not perfect. Lessons carved in rebellion. Innocence slips away. Defiance grows like weeds in concrete. From ash and noise, I rise. Every chord is a breath. In the dark, I find light. To the misfits this is your anthem. Chalk dust dreams, loud and unrelenting. Pain taught us. Rock frees us. We break the chain. ©2025 Lou / KWHO Underground. All rights reserved. Unauthorized reproduction, distribution, or exploitation is prohibited under copyright law