Illusions are what life is made ofWhile the reality stealthily escapes us
The illusion of our own being

The illusion of the people around us

The illusion of love and hate

The illusion of feelings
The reality manages to elude and misguide 

While we knit a world of our imagination 

Putting our beliefs in it

Nurturing the facade with our illusions 
The reality often smiles 

Looking down at the charade we have created 

Often with its breath ruffling up the surface of our curtain of illusions 

Thinking, if that makes one happy,

My entrance can be slightly delayed

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