When the Dreams Don'T Move

There are some days like this, 
when the dreams don't move, 
and the hope is far away, 
and the present is black 
When I come back to the past to find my rainbow. 
I open the old box of my happy memories and I try to paint my thoughts with 
colors. 
The colors that I try so many years to keep alive 
For my colorless poor days. 

Copyright Constantinos Grigoriadis © All rights reserved
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

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