all sorts of places to hide
But none to hide from 




With a lifetime to face

The places I travelled

The births

The deaths

The losses

The longings.

Can’t hide from any of those

For they return again and again in eyes that I face.

Have I failed or have I not reached success yet? 

I look inside and see a yearning

To make it the way it is in my dreams.

Each day

I return to the ground

Toiling and sweating

Prodding and planting

Trying and panting

And no matter how hard I want to live

Regular life

I can’t

I can only dream

Dream and sweat

Night after night

Toil and sweat

Day after day.

The dreamer will not be able to tell you exactly how dreams live and die.

Others don’t look closely.

It’s a secret pth that only the dreamer treads and treads over and over again.

Dreamers don’t die. 

They just dream on..

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