A child's wish, once bright, now withers in the world,
Crushed by the harsh realities, its wings unfurled.
Innocence lost, as time's currents sweep,
Dreams that once soared, now buried deep.
The world we live in, with its weight and strife,
Can tarnish the purest dreams of a young life.
But within the scars, the ashes, the despair,
Hope can still arise, a glimmer in the air.
YOU ARE READING
It's Still 12a.m.
PoetryAs the clock's final whisper embraced the dying day, darkness enveloped my room. Raindrops danced upon the fog-kissed windowpane. In the gentle glow of a dimmed lamp, I sat at my table, pen poised to capture the thoughts that flowed from the depths...
