I dont claim to be the Author of this poem, yet I dont know who wrote
it. Just made me stop and think about this fantastic, beautiful world we
are in.

You Dream of distant places,
Worlds you've never seen,
And paint a perfect postcard,
Of grass a finger green.
>
And you want to try out heaven,
Just to see what you've been told,
Isnt words in book and smiling lies,
And hills veined with fools gold.
>
You dont know where you're going,
And you wont know where you've been,
When you've taken lots of portraits,
And missed what you should have seen.
>
Still you hold onto Fancy and Sunshine Medicine,
Craddling pieces of some sky,
While all this useless wasted beauty,
Strikes me till I cry.
>
Your so adrift in distant places,
And hilly strangers you adore,
That you riding Blind Through Eden,
Lying right outside your door.

Makes you think, Is all this trouble with people, Vertani etc etc really
worth it?

Penned by my hand on the 3rd of Ero, in the year 387 AF.