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There are days we hold onto nothing, When hope becomes nothing but fragments of thoughts, Interwoven by lies to calm our jittery hearts. We watch today lay as ashes, While we wait for tomorrow to rise like a phoenix, A reflection of perfection. I call my dreams "little black birds" For they spread their wings and fly into the night, Basking in the fullness of freedom, Before morning comes, And shatters them into wishes.