Let the person inside you reign like a powerful force. He’s charming and cool. Then sing a little – or write – or at least live the way you always wanted to be.
Because it was I felt growing up,
I wonder if I really grew.
Locked in a cocoon — all but dark and gloomy,
Solitary confined, choice I had two:
Wait and I’ll be perfectly fine, though poker face can do sometimes.
Rush and I’ll die, as though waiting promises mellow chime!
To meet the end (I’m not yet prepared)
So I chose the first (weary and scared)
The place was black (pitch black to be exact) —
More than born blind; more than unborn dead.
Foundation seeks time to rest, hope to endure.
Of that thought, I filled the store.
Crawl to hear the cry with the last strain of courage,
All I want is to shout — the consuming myriad outrage
Of longing, of wanting, of dreaming
Sufficiently enough to tear the cover
Holding me back for seems a lifetime —
Secure with identity bound by serenity.
The best thing about dreams is that fleeting moment, when you are between asleep and awake, when you don’t know the difference between reality and fantasy, when for just that one moment you feel with your entire soul that the dream is reality, and it really happened.