How do you pretend,
to fit life into a seed,
that’s so ready to grow,
contained in a too small pot,
where roots can’t grow,
in soil,
of endless illusions.
Temporariness exhausts
the perfect picture painted,
the color in vain.
The hopeful thought of tomorrow’s happiness,
planted inside on the lush greenery of my dreams.
In my dream I was the silent observer,
listening to you,
while you ignited my fears,
one after the other.
I, half way to a pressured chest,
woke up, facing what my inner already knows,
that which is only once in a while shared with me.


~ by Aquatic Poetry on August 20, 2010.

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