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Dreams woven intricately through the dark canvas of life,

sparkling at times,

at times becoming dim and dull.

Dreams equivalent to stars, seem to move further away as you reach for them.

They move away as you reach for them, taunting you and mocking you,

for your inability to reach higher,

for your weakness of losing hope,

for stumbling again and again,

for not standing up after you fall down.

They mock you.

Like stars they twinkle. And disappear. Then appear again.

Or maybe they are just there, and you fail to see them.

A cloudy night perhaps?

But the clouds part to reveal them again. And they mock you, again.

 

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