Insane

If you hear me
reading this,
I'm not one of the
sane people anymore.
My thoughts are some
place else.
Somewhere.
In a place that's good to me.
Where even birds have
less freedom than I do.
Warm feelings and
wise thoughts surround me.
Wherever I look,
I see something
that reminds me
of those simple, but great
days of my early childhood.
The smell of granny's
fresh bread
coming right from
the stone oven.
Feeling of the soft, wet
grass and the young
morning sun on my face.
I look up at the night
sky. My birthday stars.
All for me and me alone.
They're brighter than
they used to be. Just
because I'm getting six
years old.
I see so many,
many of them. More
than I saw yesterday. I've
returned, but I'm still insane.
Well, I'm a writer.
What else did you expect?

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