So I dream.

dream
home.
Dream. To dream,
love.
Dream, a dream of completeness
to take those empty parts of me
and fill them with reality.

My life is someone else's
electric boxes from the TV
the place to live from the family
the job from metal money,
the dream of society.

Pressure to spend, pressure to stop,
pressure forms a path for the many
for those as weak as me.

Ten whisky bottles,
a logic toy,
rock screaming of the intersected wishes
of those as weak as me.

Is this why I hide my heart,
I hide myself,
I don't know who I am?

And I don't know who I am
so I can't know where I fit.
But it's not here,
not now.

So I dream,
humanity
a place to be free,
a place where the world works with me,
where we all can be.
Not this reality
where my life is the dream from another person's need
another person's greed
where perfection is the seed for corruption of the wish;
not here;
not now.

So I dream.