Photo Response Work

Deep inside our other worldly fantasies
Imagination lives in a hut
Heavily forested he makes his home
Kept alive by the fuels of memories
Reminiscent of his days of high productivity
when his forested habitat was
lush with innocence.
He used to fabricate fairy tales that kept
the flowers blooming
and the trees tall and strong
but it all withered when childhood came along
Every so often he will make a mark
He was once the pterodactyl that came
crashing through the window and took my teacher away
He once designed the desert slash arctic in my dreams
I see him less and less often now
he changed over the time i knew him
but it all comes rushing back
when i see a single red, red rose
in that forest from time to time