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Dreams An old man sits upon the bench As autumn fades away He stares unblinking with misty eyes Remembering his dreams of yesterday Back then his life had yawned ahead A never-ending spring When anything was possible All the things his dreams could bring Life rolled down its relentless path And summer blazed with flare But while youth prevailed it mattered not If he drifted by without a care Now today it hits him hard Autumn’s reality stands bare And his precious dreams lie unfulfilled A wasted life that went nowhere |