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What is ours

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as much a hazy construct of the mind
as the silence here past refined
an illusion of freedom, dreams to come
the parable of our lives combined, a frightening sum
a sparse expanse, a tangible awakening
and if it?s broken, broken, sickening
a fleeting glimpse of a terror and a happiness
a life we want, need, yearn for with none of the sappiness
the unreality, the surreality that Hollywood
shows us and makes us want or think we deserve, but really should
we not rather have the real, the now, with only a shadowy echo of the dream
hiding behind something that in time will seem
so much greater, so grand, so fine
that previously we could only wish was yours and mine

regb
12-15-3