In My Jar Of Broken Dreams

Soul Poetry

Another reverie shattered,

Torn apart at the seams.

So I sweep up the jagged pieces,

Put em in my jar of broken dreams.

The jar is kinda heavy,

Getting filled up to the rim.

With hopes of brightness at their start,

That upon breaking, became dim.

There's a reason why I keep them,

In my jar of vision's waste.

Someday they may invent a glue,

Then broken dreams, can bind with paste.

So never simply throw them away,

Because they are in battered condition.

Put them aside, cause you never know,

They still might come to fruition.

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