Thu, 08/15/2013 - 09:18 -- Lynnial


In an alternate reality where paper becomes the streets and the roads,

where pens are the cars whirling and whizzing along,

where my thoughts, emotions, and fears form the melodic landscaping codes.

This poetic universe helps me stay strong


After a day of anguish both mentally and physically,

due to an unstable life.

Quarrels in my home as she looks at me wickedly;

Everyday we enter this reoccurring strife.

Yet, I know that later I can escape this,

as I enter my poetic bliss


In an alternate reality where ideas are the vapor that form clouds,

where themes create the numerous species,

where I am free of the unruly dogmatic crowds,

where no one can dispel my various ideas and theses,

because in this lyrical world, I am free


I am free of the responsibilities,

playing the role of mommy to one.

Becoming stressful, tiresome, surpassing my own capabilities,

as the weight of this pressure equals a ton


But later I disappear into a rhythmical city,

where I am the engineer, the surgeon, the actress,

where I can be clever and witty,

where I am free of the daily madness.




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