I live in a world of words.
Nothing is a closer friend
Then the pen I hold in my hand.

Or the clacking keys under
My racing fingertips
Across the rows of letters.

The images flow from my mind
Roll off my fingers,
Spilling onto the page.

Those words I fathom
Help articulate, solidify,
The dreams I invent.

The world is far from perfect.
It doesn’t need to be.
I have my dreams, and they have me.
 
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