Cubicle Poem by Abigail Pastor

Cubicle



Reality burns the dreamer's eye.
It plants on the lid an ugly sty,
Imposing strict forms, rigid and tight
Existence: doomed to visionless sight

all things are possible
follow your heart

'Insipid plans, ' says reality.
Dreams crushed by impossibility.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: plants
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