reality depends on focus
focus often directed to things unreal
caught up in things that are wisps of smoke
suffocating and clouding the clear air
once so pure, now quite tainted
memory of breathing almost lost
gasping for gas to fill my lungs
aware it is time for fresh air again
realizing it is only found in Neverland
trapped in fantasy, smoke in my eyes
luckily tears often help me find the way home
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