Fantasy

I’ve thought of a world. Where magic ruled. Where pixie dust—shimmers—gold, in air. Not this smog red smoke. No. I’ve dreamed of a place. Where hearts are united. In an effort. In a reward—a good clean triumph. Of darkness. Not this discord. The terrible hate. Spread. Nationwide. More powerful, toxic, damaging, than any virus. No. I’ve dreamt of a world. Where right and wrong were black and white. Where we didn’t live colorblind. In a seeping grey. Colorblind in all the wrong ways. Where differences were celebrated. Cultures and peoples treasured. A world where evil was one person. And it lived somewhere else, not in us. I wish I could create this place. Where dragons ellipsed the sun. Where quests forged youths. Into warriors. Where wounds healed. With just a sip of glowing potion. But no. Just a plane. Just a drive to the superstore. Just a pill. Another pill. Another pill. Swallowed down. With a sip of poison. Just an addiction. Addiction to adventure. That doesn’t exist. To a feeling. That does not enrich. A hope. That can never. Be filled.

I imagined a place. Where we all belong.

Free to be.

But no.

It was all is just

A fantasy.