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Why do you soar so high o thoughts?
Piloting my priceless futile dreams,
in the plane of my mind.
Dreams which are a mere pale shadow
of the reality
which is never to be.
Dreams which are best laid aside
invisible
in the darkest corner of my mind
to die a living death. Yet as I write this
thoughts sprout wings
and vain dreams sparkle
with life again
stabbing the reality
of their futile existance
more sharply into me
and I stand aside watching,
a helpless victim!
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