fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry


Like leaves on sun burnt trees
our ambitions slowly recede,
as the winds of change blow
are you really ready to let them go?

or would you catch them
as they fall and scatter
dead may always remain dead
but would it ever matter?

would you not wait for a whole season,
for them to grow again?
or just sit infront of the idiot box
silently biting away your pain.



3 thoughts on “Ambitions

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