IT IS NICE TO DREAM
It is nice to dream; it is the non-reality of reality real,
Where nothing hurts except the demons that invade the heal,
For there is no island; there is no secure place of peace,
Where one can hide during this life time we lease,
if there was such a place then death would be the end,
There would be no need of dreams; no need to pretend.
There is no escape from self from this package that we are,
Wired up to an engine like the electronics of a car.
We can't even hide in here from the reality all around,
And we rust out in the end in some nursing home compound.
All our senses are attuned to survival and the dream,
Is the reflection of our failures though of our hopes it may seem.
As debate is for fools who cannot see what is right,
The dream is an unreality, to disguise sad thoughts as delights