Sitting in the library,
I remember clearly
The moments back in high school
When my imagination soared.
I’d be sitting in my Lit class,
Or perhaps in
When my subconscious
Gladly turned me towards the window,
My soul taking flight through unchartered lands.
As teacher lectured in droning tones
And peers searched their phones for photos
I was flying through the cumulus clouds,
On the back of a handsome narwhal.
Or somedays I would instead be dancing
In a grassy forest
Of evergreens and bushes,
with vivacious foxes,
my head crowned with bluebird feathers.
Don’t look at me like I’m silly, now!
You are the one who is
Up to much nonsense,
Sitting in class
Your brain turning to machine
While I have adventures
And choose meaning for my life.
Is there a fault in make-believe?
I feel there must be,
But I won’t justify it,
I Won’t ever stop.
It’s too much a part of me,
To this soul.