Utopia

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Utopia

Let me create a utopia in my head 
Where the roses lie by the roadside 
And the birds flutter with their wings glittering with blended freedom
Let me create a utopia in my head 
Where the electric wires are made of guitar strings
Which create sweet melodies in the rustling of the evening wind. 

Let me create a utopia in my head 
Where my hopes aren’t shot dead, bleeding in the guts, 
A place where my voice is a towering cloud rising above the ashes of things set ablaze, 
Where the tip of my tongue isn’t stapled to the corner of my mouth by unfaltering fear

Let me create a utopia in my head where your first son still calls you mother with his patterned wrapper slung across his flimsy shoulders, 
Where he still drinks from your terracotta, brown like his smooth skin, 
Like the cracked surface of your hut.

Let me create a utopia in my head
Where love isn’t betrayal in disguise that would stab you in the back no matter how much you’ve done for him. 
A place where our love is selfless, lucid and does not require anything to complement our frail nature. 

Let me create a utopia in my head
Where creating a utopia would not be possible;
Because our imaginations cannot transcend beyond whatever is perfect.

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