I live in old faded pages,
Yellowing and worn out.
Even in a familiar image,
We hold these same old doubts.
Lost in fantasy,
Hiding from harsh reality.
Unseen in speculation,
Exploring a strange virtuality.
It's a world of paper,
Swirling in ink.
Astray in delusion.
Can't hear myself think.
Returning from reverie,
Is dismayed verity.
Though we crave fanciful illusions,
We know it's impossible in corporality.
YOU ARE READING
𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐀
Поэзияeunoia [ yoo - noy - uh ] · Greek (n.) a pure and well balanced mind. a good spirit. "Beautiful Thinking" highest rankings: #24 in poetry #24 in poetrycollection #5 in think #1 in haiku #15 in feel