or the look in my eyes
or the hope in my soul?
from when and what time
do my ideals date back
or my dreams or my ideas?
why is it I feel like a shadow
beyond all now and here?
behind the modern, immaturity
and ignorance that is sure
to rise above and beyond
and succeed as the majority?
where common sense is caged
in a museum
something to look at
in awe and wonder
and then move on
one old exhibit after the other
look and forget until
you look back with regret
at the modern era of un-ingenuity
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