March 11th and Foggy
March 11th and Foggy
My Thoughts
Aspirations are never taken,
But oft deserted,
How many days have been washed out
Pursuing a dream,
That went the way of fog at sunrise;
Taunting dreams,
That often remained, just beyond reach;
Dreams, colorless,
And infertile of substance that became
Mere clouds of illusion;
Dreams that don’t outlive the passion of day,
Leave only scraps
Of that God given moment;
Tom
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