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Rated: · Poetry · Writing · #936100
A poem about what reality really is.
It's sweet and bitter breath hits my face.
It carries the smell of birth and defeat,
it carries tragedy after tragedy my way.
It speaks of hate and love.
It speaks of fate and faith.
It holds the hopes of tomorrow,
and it carries the regrets of today.
I can taste life and death as it's breath hits my face.
It is our every nightmare and sometimes our deepest dreams.
It's as harsh as the jagged rocks at the bottom of a cliff and yet as soft as the fur of the teddy that cushions our child like tears:
It's name is reality
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/936100-Reality