I have a feeling that none of this is real. Neither the plush green grasses, nor the rolling hills. Not the silvery raindrops. Not the snow-capped mountains. Not the marble statues. Not the birdbath fountains.
Reason for writing:
yes, i know this poem is here twice, but I came up with a more suiting title for it.. makes much more sense than "reality".. the word "surreal" captures what i was trying to express in this poem....
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