Being dragged by dream and reality
I live in a state of dilemma.
Prefering to live around the dream
I can’t cut off my roots forever.
Hearing the tune played by heart
I live the way less familiar to any songs.
Flying high in dream last night
I was awakened by the knockings on the door.
The painting on the wall was fallen down,
broken into pieces, I saw it was in dream
for a short while then;
no more a dream, it has become
a reality now.
The child inside me was screaming fiercely
looking at the shattered dream lying on the floor.
