Here I go on the road roaming in and out the wilderness of my mind.
There I see none but the loneliness of my life;
knowing only the ones I want,
but knowing the feeling of those whom they say,
I can utterly know how they have played theirs and mine.
Where they needed me and wanted me stay,
I passively do,
I actively not say,
where I was not to,
almost did entertain what notion
once upon a moment a memory.
In a blurred second vision thought,
I knew reality was not my fantasy,
then I dreamt of you into me.
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