Still Hoping

There are some new ties forming. Two from a seven count for thirteen. Maybe they are gifted and actually understand the comedy that is me and my need to give and receive privacy. My defenses are starting to show. I don't blow, I just show courtesy and walk away. Here today, I sit thinking about my vivid dreams and a new vision of Iran next to me. In my dream, he spoke eloquently. In life they label him chronic schitzophrenic. It is a great cover, but I think that it is starting to wear on him. People enter the scene around me and I must just look away and concentrate on the beat of the kettle drums. In the end, I do still believe that I will be able to be free.