Of My Creation

I rip down the blinds

hoping just to find

the sun as it does shine

revealing I’m not blind.

What has been here

or in front of me disappeared

as I waste my tears

on dreams that never appear.

Shall I dream to drown

sadness in me I’ve found

so I might find ground

to set my feet down?

It is all but trite banter

that my mind does let enter

that strikes me in center

of my heart as a sinner.

To the privy of imagination

I complete such creations

so I might find persuasion

for my courage to face them.

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