GHOSTS OF REALITY
The sad days of frustration
have come upon my hand.
A bitter face of wishes
have stranded in this land.
I found a treasure
beneath the starry sky.
A chest full of reality
to balance up the lie.
The haven of prosperity
are waiting to be found.
But if you're sad and bitter,
you'll never find that ground.
We leave the memories
that gratify the most.
And this sad procedure
turns us into ghosts.
Poetry by Daybreaker
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Written on 2006-11-22 at 02:00
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Kathy Lockhart |