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Poem

In a world of paper, colors bright and bold, 
Lives a stamp collector, with stories to be told. 
With albums of wonder, and pages of dreams, 
Each stamp a journey, or so it seems. 
 
But shadows can linger, and hearts can break, 
For the pain of loss is a toll we all take. 
An album once cherished, now vanished from sight, 
A collection of memories, lost to the night. 
 
The thrill of the hunt, the joy of the find, 
Can turn into sorrow, leaving echoes behind. 
Stolen treasures whisper of what could have been, 
A passion now haunted by what’s lost within. 
 
A simple piece of paper, yet it holds so much, 
A glimpse into cultures, a soft, tender touch. 
From monarchs to landscapes, from wildlife to art, 
Each stamp is a window to a world set apart. 

From faraway places, where skies meet the sea, 
To tiny enclaves, where the heart longs to be. 
Yet, never for fortune does the collector strive, 
It’s the stories and journeys that keep dreams alive. 
 
With magnifying glass, they study each line, 
Yet each missing stamp leaves a mark on the spine. 
They trade and they share, with friends who understand, 
The joy of collecting, but also the hand. 
 
In quiet moments, as they flip through the pages, 
They travel through time, across countless stages. 
But the pain of the absent can weigh like a stone, 
A collector’s heart aches for what’s never known. 
 
So here’s to the dreamers, with albums in hand, 
Who cherish these tokens from a faraway land. 
Though loss may be part of this journey so true, 
A stamp collector’s spirit endures, seeing through.

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