They belong here!

The dreams belong in my heart,
not tainted by shitty lights.

The truth is in there,
each beat and the laughs,
the skips and the burns,
the feel goods and
the will-it-heal ones.
Special, true, more so;
in demure celebration,
a year-round festival of life.

The flowing lines in abandon,
river placid, but 'em currents.
From the origin where else;
the valley with broken bridges.

Indeed they'll remain there,
special in the simple ways.