Please, Just let me dream.
Hope, just a bit.
In the end who cares if it’s an illusion,
Hope for a dream to come true, a wish,
to be loved back, by the person you’ve chosen.
And then we can try,
to make will,
Will is power.
Knowing that what we see in the eyes of each other,
it’s excatly what we think it is.
What we’re looking for.
And maybe, I shouldn’t even telling you all of this,
Because it’s mine.
But this is…
The risk of poetry.