There is a song that is sung
where the melodies depart;
the mind sets apart
the man from the lark
in the wilds of time,
the plans and the lines
of promises played
and dreams long delayed,
are erased from the day of a Lifetime’s dismay.

This song is still sung
by the heart and the lung;
gleaned from the will of an optimist’s hum
in a world largely lit
by the darkness and grit
of the cynic’s sharp tongue,
the melodies live on.

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