In the maze I run and run.
Rushing after a whisp.
A darling thing, most cherished.
The tinkling of laughter.
To think I could be elsewhere-
holding a precious bundle.
That is a dream
I do not think about.
A wall of thorns too sharp to touch.
The memories of what was
drift from me like
yesterday's news.
Everything I long for-
pale shadows in the sunlight.
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