When dreaming in reality,
Things seem to pass away,
In thoughts that seem for simplicity,
Sometimes we're not okay,

When Hating in the sanctity,
We find no peace with ourselves,
When loving in our sanity,
It's placed right back on the shelves,

When cold in the summer's heat,
It tortures even our minds,
When lost among documented sheet,
It brings forth all kinds,

Disparage flooded forth,
And nothing really to gain,
It is the shadows that play the games,
it seems all we get is the pain.

By Kamron Wolf.

Sweet.

..you write it?