So lost in thought I mourn at night, my dreams become a tomb.
But if I dream a dream just right, my strength it does renew.
I tell myself to not get lost in that magic coliseum,
because I know that such a cost, would be more than just my freedom.
Imagination is just fine, until you're back where you reside.
You're dreams are not reality, but nonetheless necessity.
One needs dreams to keep one going,
to subdue the ever growing fear of failure and resentment
of a life you're not content with.
A life so void of expectations. A dismal world, a broken nation.
I yearn for people who believe in chaos, bliss, and anarchy.
We grow up and lose ourselves to simply being here,
but I refuse to greet each day with nothing but my fear.
So I digress that I remain a fully loaded schemer,
its all I have, and all I am, another insatiable dreamer.

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