The Idealist Poem by Robert Rittel

He walks right through the wall and bounces of the air,
the ideal is the greatest reality as compulsive fair.
Some minds nail the ideal to the cross for depart,
as the ideal once is dissolved from a love drunken heart.
Then those ideals will have wrinkle and aching pain,
when those star fetched orientations shine in vain.
The danger of fanatic idealism ends in self pity,
even when the intellect feels so witty.
The reality of the ideal a soap opera for sure,
experience out of this is the parody to endure.
Fixed ideals the narrow obelisk of will,
haunting graveyards at midnight still.
For some it's plenty to live by,
the idea and the love to lie.
Welcome divine ideal and destroyer of the world,
when greatness becomes emptiness unfurled.
The modern world ruled by ideals to find,
the tragedy of who is who lost in human kind.
The over stimulated fatalisms as art,
with no intolerance from the heart.
Millions of ‘ifs' at the twilight dawn beach,
because nature has that magical promise reach.