Some say we think too much
Make our own reality
Yet reason is a slave
Passion makes us free.
What we purchase makes demands
Turns our wanting into musts
We are exhausted in the end
Was it worth the fuss?
Never should one squander
We use the word succeed
Reaching all our lives
Wanting worthwhile deeds
What is found in dreams
Always sees the best
Will have a perfect end
Put everything to rest
It is things that disappoint
And they will see decay
What is real dwells in hearts
It cannot fade away
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