A dream, all a dream, that ends in nothing, and leaves the sleeper where he lay down, but I wish you to know that you inspired it.
-Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities
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I have a poem inside my heart. An unwritten poem that will never see the light of day. It's been there for a long time, and I don't know what to do with it. I wonder if it will slowly dissolve into the mist of all the forgotten words and things I don't remember anymore?
Or will it linger there burning like a flame nipping at my senses till slowly it burns itself down and when I take my last breath will it slip out of my mouth and become my last words...?
9/20/2017
(Simple words about a poem that remains inside my heart)