Why is it that just when I'm ready to fall asleep, the urge to write poetry takes me over?
Fantasy And Reality
Here I sit, lost in deep thought,
Wishing things could be idyllic
But alas, they’re always not.
What’s so wrong with fairytales?
Couldn’t it be that way just for once?
Why is it that my grasp of Reality fails?
I know there’re people who care
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