White Picket Fence

Pretty portrait painted,
picket fences white,
yard full of flowers,
no sign of a fight,
cloudless blue sky,
smiling face,
I wanted to live in this place.

On the wall of my mind
picture is hung,
as insult and greed
through youth were flung,
kept my eye on ideals,
plotted my course,
not knowing
the real estate
of my mind was a farce.

Banked all my efforts,
eye on the prize,
not seeing truth
before my eyes.

 Beginning to dig
for what's real in this life,
I found myself truly
reborn through my strife.
Take a step back,
excavation reveals
all those old worn out
and tired ideals.
I throw in what's died
hold dear what remains
cover it over
and survey my gains:

Truth, Love, and Peace,
they live in this world.

This isn't the dream of a delusional girl.