No Utopian Realm

As my spiritual body makes way back to physical form

i kiss the astral plane goodbye.

Wont be long until we meet again

but for now the hour hand has hit a 180 degree angle 

and the smell of coffee has lingered into my room. 

Although it is physically uncomfortable to open my eyes 

i do it with enthusiasm and charisma. 

But for what cause?

to serve my brainwashed duties to a deceitful government 

and a barbaric society; why intentionally pick a reality with repressed boundaries 

when my dream state is everything i can fathom at the blink of an eye. 

But no utopian realm can make me feel real life emotion weather it be 

the hopeless undesirable desire for an individual or the unbearable cringe of pain. 

No utopian realm can give me the satisfaction of of pouring my blood sweat and tears 

into the birth of my creations after several failed attempts. 

No utopian realm can flood my body with adrenaline as i walk the fine line 

that separates adventure and death while the tiny idea that

this could be my last day alive sits in the back of my head. 

These uncanny predicaments are what fuels me out of bed. 

I embrace the bad with wide welcoming arms 

because without it my tolerance to happiness 

would be unquenchable 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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