Crashing seas
Fantasy
Working hard
Dreaming again
Another life
As if a portal
Through a book
I feel alive
In someone else’s life
With trouble and happiness
And solutions
And gifts
Why can’t life be like a book?
Where everywhere I look
There is happiness and love
But that is not really life
It’s only in a book
Why can’t life be like a book?
A book can be real
Should be real
A reality I choose
That I have more control
Of my personality
Of those around me
Of my life
In a book, it always seems to be happy in the end
But is it not that in real life? Is the end
Happy?
Maybe
But the more I ponder
The more I wonder
Does the ending always have to happy
For it not be good?
Life won’t always tell of success and happiness
Can the good ending not be of angriness
Of sappiness?
So I
I
I will no longer
Ponder the reality I am in
But rather begin
With a new belief
Without grief
No more
Why can’t life be like a book?
But rather
Accepting of life
And circumstances
Rather
Anger
Sadness
Happiness
Love
Of doves
And gloves
Of staying above the need to escape
Through a book
That tells of fantasy
Of crashing seas
