Freedom

Everyday I ask myself What will i have to prove. Do i have to hang always Heavy in that perfect imagination? Is that what my life is for? Is that the way of life? Stiff and unchanging. Where is that place To hide away from reality? To cry, without being called weak To scream, when i feel Like letting go. To relieve my heart, When i cannot bear The trick of time. Lonely am I In this perfect imagination Lonely and empty. Accepting the lonely heart. Surrendering to reality. If I could, I would leave This perfect imagination. As if on wings that gently fan the air, I am released from this perfect Imagination, to drift without a care.