We dream, we romantics,
Of starry nights
And story-book days.
We dream our fairy tale wishes,
And see poetry in
Every Sunset.
When darkness falls
We reach for the
Pinpoint of light
From a distant star.
We make a wish
When that same star,
Our light in the
Darkness
Falls from the sky.
We romantics
Believe, though the
World shows it's
Brutality
Day after day.
We do not become
Cynics,
We romantics.
We hold fast to
Our shiny image
Of the world.
Like pussy willows,
Clinging to a dead branch.
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