My ideas,
Are floating,
Golden things,
Seemingly elusive,
Undeniably beautiful,
What joy they hold,
If only I could grasp them.
Yet I know I cannot take hold of them
With hands and fists,
I must first embrace them
With my heart and mind.
My ideas,
Are floating,
Golden things,
Seemingly elusive,
Undeniably beautiful,
What joy they hold,
If only I could grasp them.
Yet I know I cannot take hold of them
With hands and fists,
I must first embrace them
With my heart and mind.
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