The Fantasy Breaks,
The Mind Awakes,
Time is what it’ll Take,
For the Person to Remake.
But –
The World doesn’t Stop,
When the Heavens Drop,
The World doesn’t Stop,
When the Fantasy Pops,
The World doesn’t Stop,
If a Person Takes a Drop,
The World doesn’t Stop
Waiting for a new fantasy to crop
And when the new Person Arises
Getting over all the Crises,
Ready to Tackle the World
They get Unfurled,
For the World they Knew
Which Turned them Blue,
Is no longer in View.
A new fantasy is now astrew.
“Sometimes we keep getting chipped at by others and it disfigures us. But once we take control of it, we can sculpt ourselves into something more beautiful than before.”
This is a poem I wrote back in 2019, sometime around November/December. This poem is for –
For everyone who locked themselves in a shell and lost their original selves.
For everyone who keep breaking the shell a bit and keep rebuilding it.
For everyone who ever broke a shell and built a new shell.
By being in a shell – it’s everyone who ignored or didn’t trust hard facts and evidences, or ignored them, and their thoughts and emotions and behaviour was limited, only looking at selective proof and selective bias rather than the entire picture.
It’s for everyone who misses the forest for the trees.
It’s for everyone who’d abandon the forest because it got infected, and try and grow and new forest since the previous one is “corrupted” and no longer perfect (their fantasy).
It’s for everyone who lives in a fantasy..whether selectively or completely…
Fantasies…in my poem, refer to beliefs, big or small, which are beliefs despite contrary evidence, or are beliefs without evidence.
My fantasies too..and your fantasies too.
Some AI generated art using Cortana – My prompt was –
“Generate an image for this poem -”
The images are generated using Dall E 3.
