those places that are marked on every map
we drew in childhood to ensure our play
had structure in the mind that they would stay
solidly longer than the infant pap
of other games would drift through every nap
shaping the dream out of imagined clay
to make a brightness greater than the day
when ordinary life was only crap
from word to vision the true path is clear
so that you take it with eyes truly cold
through the divisions of a world in strife
with all the forces that would shred and tear
your heart and spirit as you become old
reject them all and choose the better life