How we are fundamentally insecure,

tossing our pride out of the windows when it's nighttime,

time to go to bed and dream

out absurdities and flush the mind

of excess, clogging weights,

like social obligations, hard constraints,

and whatever taxes the heart

in its effort to be freed again, O

finally out of itself, that is

the true dream, real,

at the heart of itself, really. 



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Endless Writer © Ata Zargarof 2020

BC, Canada