by Elise Krentzel

Can I explain these foreign things?

Both plain as day and fake like dreams

for my conception always dies,

I will not know where thee truth lies.

For I come and go and vanish like mist

while life circles above and beyond the gist

of all that passes by each day,

yet the freedom I have duly comes my way!

And yes, it’s hard.

Wandering about.

With no protection except my shout

to rise with happiness, I am alone.

I walk with pride without a home.

But what courage is there in security

when the only true test is reality.

Of being blindfolded. And masked. And afriaid.

When everything you have is there yet not made.

Still the absolute courage of sight unseen,

is when you accomplish what you dream.