Life of Fiction
Helicopter come to take you away, turbine blades twist above my head, time to go to bed with love and shades to hide my eyes from the sweet summer sun, time to wake today, the sky is turning stars like a cellular atmosphere, electrons rotating such bliss and beauty, better safe than sorry, so I put on my clothes and walk out the door, what a wonderful day, cleared out my savings, bought a ticket to Paris, now on the airplane as I fly away, look out the window, now a cloud below, but I see the ocean in the distance, as it draws near, your image shrinks down in the desert where the death lay still in the air, with the windmills and the people, little ants and machines, I say goodbye to the past completely covered and masked, so abstract like a dream where nothing was real, all make believe, all these plast people around, with painted faces like paragraphs and illustrations, then you read, "The End." Life is fiction, time to play, what more can I say, what a colorful day.
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