I look far into it,
Not close enough to really be there yet.
I want something I know I'll never get.
Either by body or brain is preventing.
Preventing it from becoming reality.
Instead of Fantasy.
Do I really decide the outcome of my life?
Or is this just proven by guilt stricken thoughts.
I'll scream and shout before they ever put me out.
Out in a world of routine and money.
Who needs paper anyway?
Paper controls the world, goes with each need or want.
Paper kills and depresses, strips and undresses.
People, who define their worth by paper.
Are Paper themselves.