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How often have these weary hopes
Bent beneath the flame
And found no true... compassioned heart
To give them life again?
How often have these foolish dreams
Watched as none else saw
And smiled their tired, familiar smile
As time grew tired
And none inspired
A newer, brighter dawn?
Oh, weary, are these eyes of hope
These eyes of fruitless dreams
Forgotten memories of what
A life had never been.
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