Memories drift before my mind's eye,
Mind's sky exhaling puff after precious puff of past
With every languid, torturous breath it gasps:
Clouds vast enough to hide behind... and from -
Great barren wombs in which my hopes—entombed—despair,
Miscarriage mocking any dream this mind might think to bear;
Insubstantial for to float upon—just severe enough to dwell—
And not pleasing enough to wear (upon my sleeve in company),
I'm bereft of reason why I sustain such memories as these.
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