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Reach

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There are no words that can break the spell of reminiscence. For the longing of forgotten sorrows cuts all other emotion to dust. A sweet breeze envelopes your soul As tiny feet dangle in a laughing brook And the sun winks through eternal trees – playing hide and seek. The picture perfect image of peace Along with the simplistic belief that nothing could ever go wrong.
Break the reverie.
Smash the hope. For as I sit stagnant and pools of tears collect at my feet, I realize That the laughing brook of my childhood is gone. That all my beliefs of what I once knew as truth, have been blown away- Pushed over by the constant images proclaiming the hatred and fear ruling this earth. When have the images of forsaken children ever brought about hope? When did the knowledge of perpetual terrorism give us peace? DonÕt shame me. DonÕt drag me into guilt.
Just love me. For just as you do, I long for my greatest trial to be that my stubby little hand cannot reach the succulent berry at the top. For instead when I reach that berry today, I can see the corruption that has tainted its taste. So I squish it in my hand, Feeling its blood trickle between my fingers, And close my eyes.





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