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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2244392
At a crossroads.
Upon the edge of a broken dream,

He came upon a swallow;

And soft it sang to call him home,

With voice a gentle hollow.

At such he ceased his lonely roam

And stood there still awhile.

The bird, it trilled a tune so true

To lure him with its guile.

It sang a song of azure blue,

A song of open sea,

Where sailors drowned their sorrows,

All young and old and free.

The time had come to dive inside:

He faced the path again.

Behind him lay the roads he rue

Before him stretched a garden.

And so, the fateful step took he,

Off the edge of a broken dream.
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