an ideal world

often times I find myself dreaming of an ideal world,

a world full of possibilities, hope and freedom.

a world where i can truly be myself,

and no one would bat so much as an eye,

no matter what i do.

a place which will be devoid of the existence of my terrible parents.

my ideal world,

just for me.

zoning out in a sunlit room, i doze off to the dreamland.

imagining all sorts of things —

where no one would see me as their puppet,

or merely an investment for their future,

and i would finally do what i love.

where i would simply exist,

and that will be enough for me.

the guilt of disappointing my parents won’t eat me away;

sadness would not be my enemy, but a friend.

whom i could lean onto and lay hand in hand with happiness.

the world, i imagine —

would be full of stars, mesmerising sunsets, and a dream.

rainbows, and waterfalls.

where animals would be my friends, and fairies my companions.

a world where we all would exist in harmony.

that is how i picture my ideal world.