A
man's dream is his and his alone,
And no one shall touch it.
A
dream of a kingdom, a prize, a blade of grass, a tree, a flower.
A
hope, an ambition, a wish, a desire
Of everything and anything.
A
dream of the fog at night
Creeping and rolling in the streets,
Settling into dew in the morning.
A
man's dream is a fragile, strong, wild bubble;
When it breaks, it explodes
And is no more.
But more is the memory of the dream.
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