Mountains and I
My mountains and I
Stared at each other
In silent harmony
Nurturing futile wishes.
What if I could move!
The mountain thought.
What if I could move you!
I thought, optimistically.
Our wishes were fruits
Of our minds conspiracies
The result of the blues
And some other hues.
We knew
That our dreams were like bubbles
They formed only to rupture
And unite with the rubbles.
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