this land is a bubble unable to burst
I yell to the out side to let me join them
this air so stale and unchallenging
I bore from the dullness that exhausts from this
lack of originality
others sweat and strive with a great reward
but yet as I push through and through the
gift does not taste so sweet in this bubble
I smell through the memories of a time
outside this land a memory a dream
we stifle our creativity, our imagination with
tasteless drabble and other peoples doubt
pop the bubble grab the wind and force others
to move out of the way


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