Our happy dreams of future
Are there to make illusion
That we are here for good
It is a fake, it is delusion
Our bodies are too fragile
To make all dreams come true
This world may give you a career
Or happy family
Or something else you can imagine
But when you’ll try to peel all rubbish
You’ll find that many dreams don’t matter
What brings us peace?
A thought, a guess maybe?
No, we don’t know what brings us
Love, hope or inner harmony.
poetry for self-relief 