this time, for real.

We think of our world
to be similar to a museum.
We’re all allowed to look,
but forbidden to touch.

Haven’t you thought of touching that opulent statue before?
Haven’t you wondered what crowds the spaces of the ‘staff only’ room?
Haven’t you pondered about the old janitor’s story?

Yes, you have.
I have.
They have, too.

And yet, have we done anything about it?

No, you haven’t.
I haven’t.
They haven’t, either.

My inept words aren’t meant to be intimidating,
They’re about igniting a spark of thought.
One flicker turning into a beam, and
the realisation finally hitting you,
that the world is actually an open stage.

One that is not too appealing,
but rewarding nonetheless.
The clichéd perceptions linger, and
yet the paramount heroes emerge.
‘Some men are born great,
some have greatness thrust upon them’
Have you figured out, which one are you?

Now go, and reach the nearest statue,
someone will notice, but they’ll come along too,
creep inside the staff room and switch on the bulb,
to see what secrets does the room hold,
and don’t hesitate to ask the janitor his name.
finally, it’s time to start your own escapade,

And this time, for real.

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