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when we think about imagination,
We think about pieces of our childhood.
Leftover of the memories
They didn't wanted us to keep.
Ashes
Of our buried first consciousness,
Buried
Under a pile of society
Tossed by the shovel
Of humanity.
Shattered thougts.
Because they fear the ones
That know what's really worth it.
A child wouldn't choose a car
Or a smartphone
Before their friends.
They wouldn't.
Because our math tests became easier
When "I don't know" was a valid answer.
Now it is all about competition,
Now it is all about money,
And that's what makes someone
Rich.
And who's "powerful" will rule.
A kid is not afraid to fall
Because they'll stand up Again,
Maybe,
We have much to learn from them.

— The End —