The street lamp cast its shadows across my face,
Revealing a hint of subdued perplexities
Life had its blue rain surprises and complexities,
That had crudely taken me to an unknown place
The edges of reality dug sharply into my mind,
As I unlocked the doors to its orphaned processes
Reality came in waves, hollow spaces, and tangled messes
Bearing words medically black, white, and starkly unkind
I preferred to drift as a visitor with the morning sun,
And travel diverse crossroads for a thousand years,
Collecting a library of things immortal, things void of tears,
While floating with cobbled clouds that were made to run
But the wind would often nag at the pages of my dreams
And once more plant my feet on things black and white
Is it imperative to cross the bridge into reality's plight…..?
Or, keep etching reshaped promises and dreams!
I will continue to visit reality and its circus sphere
While leaving thunderstorms behind me,
While birthing words of wisdom and running free,
But remember, I'm whimsical and I'm really not from here
