When do you release a dream?
Perhaps it's when the heart cries out once too much.
Or is it when you no longer feel the passion of life?
All I can tell you is that something inside broke today.
Somewhere that no one had touched for a long time.
The loss of this makes me feel no better than dirt.
Imperfect in my humiliation and suffering.
My soul drags behind me like a tattered cloth
that can never fit comfortably again.
Perhaps it's when the heart cries out once too much.
Or is it when you no longer feel the passion of life?
All I can tell you is that something inside broke today.
Somewhere that no one had touched for a long time.
The loss of this makes me feel no better than dirt.
Imperfect in my humiliation and suffering.
My soul drags behind me like a tattered cloth
that can never fit comfortably again.
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