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My dreams are fragile things that easily die
Yet,
There are more of them than
Birds to fill the sky
My hope is a more fragile thing that too is easily squelched
Yet,
It is brighter than the
Starry, starry night
My heart is a fragile thing that so easily cries
Broken, shattered,
More than a hundred times.
Carefully pieced together every time
My spirit is a fragile thing that is easily crushed
Still,
It restores itself with
Your every touch.
