its sunset in the summer,
the sky is full of fading colors.
fire flies dance around me as i pass
they dance with me as i dance in the grass.
its cool against my bare feet.
i spin and swirl in a playful speed
loving the feel of my feet in the green.
the crickets chirp,the birds are quiet,
through the feild to the waterfall
which is thundering and silent.
i move through the trees
once again with bare feet
the air is warm as i move
and it is scented taste sweet.
the ime is dusk or dawn
either is fine in the grove
in my effortless calming run
i enjoy a quiet sense of fun;
just like a newly lifed fawn.
in this place of calming features
of nature and magic and woodland creatures,
time and reality have no place here,
nor does anger,pain,and fear.
but alas i cannot go to this happy place,
which was once upon a time my saving grace.
because it became a thing for reality to feed
it left my world to wither and bleed.
because of reality my imaginary place has died.
this is why i often cry.
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