Sometimes it hurts to be a dreamer.
Always seeing, imagining, dreaming...
-for things that just may never be.
Hoping, aching, pleading...
-for reveries to take tangible form.
As time goes on it takes its toll...
Eventually fantasy reverts to nightmare and I begin to dread,
-the happiness that surrounds me while I sleep.
-being torn from it all when I wake.
Life grows so hard to endure,
when you're just so unsure.
Am I just setting myself up to fall?
Wishing for things that aren't real and standing on a ledge that's much too tall...
...for me?
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