Forgotten Dreams
These beautiful things, delicate and small
Are made for turning to catch the light and eye
These are like dreams, and dropped so easily
On the still warm pillow as you awake,
Then left forgotten as the morning’s sun
Fades them away into forgetfulness
As you walk off to meet your bright new day
You hoping it will become a new lover,
Or be another memorable day
To stack up against those thin times when time
Itself seems to turn against you and haunt
You with its taunts of what it might have been.
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