I warn you now, do not read this.
There are no verses of enlightened bliss.
There’s not a word you would ever miss.
It’s but a passage as I reminisce.
Parts are true, some maybe not.
Time has fogged and some forgot.
Its pages of perspective yet to have a plot,
it’s yet to have an end or a juggernaut.
To a readers’ mind it’s a fictional brew.
And like yours parts too are true.
Our characters blended to shade our hue.
Our morals sculpted to fit our view.
Dreams are added, we all share those.
They’re a third of our life no one knows.
They’re also the guide that shapes and grows.
Our time awake, the dreaming then shows.
Memories linger and lessons remain.
There’s good and bad but none to regain.
Forwards the choice regardless the brain,
the author’s irrelevant; we’ve all had our pain.
If you’ve read this far just wait and see.
Our stories are similar, I think you’ll agree.
Our life is lived with hopes to be free.
And the ending’s the same for you and me.