Imagine a world where your heart can soar to find its precious muse
Imagine a city where your creativity can sprint amongst its streets
Imagine a place where your thought was the only one that mattered
Yet, all we can do is imagine a place where our hearts are bound
A place where our ingenuity is limited
A place where our thoughts are hidden in the deep abyss of our minds
Yet we convince ourselves into a state of sheer contentment
Are we blinded?
Or do our minds play tricks on us.
Because if all we do is imagine, are we really living?

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