the other day, while fencing my heart, i chanced upon an impossible dream, it rose, in beauty, on feet of hope and embraced a teardrop out of me? with hurried steps i rushed away, to find my mask, my book of sense. to invalidate my yesterday. then turned to build my trusted fence. there it lies unto this day, un-nurtured, neglected, growing still, i hoped it gone, wished it away, but there it stays against my will. i leave it at the gallows, pronounce it dead, but come event of tender mind, i look back and find it there. only a few steps behind? beguilingly tangible? agonizingly beautiful? mercilessly invisible to all but me.

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