Dreams are dreams and nothing else.

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In shadows cast by weary light,
A tale of dreams does fade from sight,
For in the depths of life’s despair,
Dreams are so painful and unfair.

Don’t dream, they whisper, don’t you see,
The futility of what could never be?
For dreams are but meaningless illusions,
Leading only to heartaches and humilations.

Don’t dream, don’t do, for it’s all in vain,
Like selling salt in pouring rain,
For dreams slip through trembling hands,
Leaving behind empty, barren lands.

The dreams we hold, like fragile glass,
Shatter, fracture, and break as moments pass,
And as the dreams begin to fray,
Their colors fade, and slowly decay.

It does sting, this bitter truth,
When dreams crumble, devoid of youth,
Left with echoes of what it could have been,
A haunting reminder of what can’t be seen.

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