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The Woolgatherer

Had I not witnessed with my eyes The massive throng of empty dreams, I would have fallen for the guise That all is better than it seems. The awful truth that lies within, Its harsh intents I shan’t forgive. How cruel, alas, deceit has been; To make me think that all dreams live. And on that fateful night I met The shepherd’s twin on timber sitting. He was collecting in his net Some empty thoughts, and meekly knitting. “Woolgatherer, woolgatherer.” I said with eager dreamer’s tongue. He had the look of wanderers, That many deaths have dwelt among. “How many dreamers have there been Who’s dreams on solid grounds were crushed?” “To tell the truth, I can’t begin.” He spun his words at me, quite rushed. “The broken dreams…” I said to him, “What will happen to the pieces? Will they run, or fly, or swim, Or simply die? (Their life ceases)” What he said I won’t forget, His flabbergasting scheme: “I’ll pluck the fragments with my net And build a better dream.”

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 9/5/2009 4:26:00 AM
my new fav poet/poem!...wow! the soup is so rich with the likes of you! Gael!...jim
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Date: 5/17/2009 10:11:00 AM
I love poems that tell stories; this poem in particular reminded me of a very wacky story I read called El Guardagujas. The way you told this in a very short period...you were able to capture every detail needed...and the last line O__O I loved it!! It gives hope and new umbrella trees for everybody to keep going! Thanks for the experience!!=D and for the comments too jojojoj xD
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Date: 5/7/2009 12:35:00 PM
i really got to go through more of youre things. this one is quite good
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Date: 4/3/2009 2:01:00 PM
What an awesome write, Gael! One who pulls apart others dreams only to use "the fragments" and build is own is dispicable.
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