Dreams Poem by david guerrero
Dreams
Still are the woods,
cold and white in the winter
and sad are the dreams, that dwell in their dying tinder.
All people, from far and close lands
from ancient times and New Years past
have walked these woods once in lonely despair
searching for their wandering dreams
an unwavering winter,
that only dreams could forever weather.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
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4/25/2024 2:23:17 PM # 1.0.0.1119
