What Is Life

Here where the sun

Sweeps up the hill

And down again

I plucked it

Laid it on a grave

I no longer hear Her voice in the wind.

I know how to dream and

Make it come true.

Before I got sense

I believed in fairy tales.

This morning the wind

Blew the cobwebs of my dream away.

Long before the innocence

Of childhood left me.

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