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

On-level pre-calculus

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,

Twirling about

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,

Gives delight

And agony

To this soul.

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