It's not what we do to
our dreams and hopes,
although difficult it
maybe to watch their
withered bones beside
our over-grown path,
it's what we do and
don't to those whose
paths cross ours that
matters; if the bones
beside their paths
are by our hands,
through action or
idleness, then that
is the greater guilt.
For the one hope
we should have
been keeping alive
of ours is this:
That the dreams of
those who we
love should
come true.
20.07.2023
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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