There is a point in time when decisions turn into frozen moments,
Where your mind evolves and releases a butterfly once entrapped within the confines your echoing thoughts,
When you must stop. And think.
Why are we dragging a deflated balloon of our past,
The torn shoelaces and tattered clothes.
We asked ourselves, why do we hold on?
Dreams of the past cannot be the dreams of the future.
Change is inevitable yet unpredictable,
How then can we depend on the abstract memories which echoes within our dreams.
Because a hope.
Thrives.
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