A long time ago made believe,
brand new dreams were written down on torn up sheets,
and scattered as ashes somewhere on a vacant lot.
Now, cigarette smoke stays afloat,
deploying vivid images of faceless memories that whisper lies of hope and bliss from the withstanding cages,
within my worn out mind,
that won't give in.
Hopefully, one day I'll ride past this storm,
towards the end of the tunnel,
for only then will I ever be in peace.
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