I wrote down my dreams
on crinkled yellow paper
perhaps for you to read
I wrote them down with innocence
for I knew not of my fate
I passed my youth I grew my age
and the dreams grew page by page
Innocence changed to bitterness
and the dreams began to fade
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an alternate and short version of the theme ‘I wrote down my dreams’
not better or worse. i somehow now find that i rather like this too. (digs more through my notebook)
somebody would have had something to say