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Writer's pictureD. Y. Kyoseva

A Soft Served Dream


An ice cream is a soft served dream

Gloriously layered like a tower reaching for the sky

You give it constant care and attention

But it slowly melts and loses shape

Sometimes it breaks and falls down

Filling your empty stomach with disappointment

Some dreams never come true

They tease your eyes with a delicious promise

Before they hit the pavement and flatten in an instant

Empty handed, you wipe your hands and play it cool

Maybe a dog will come and lick your soft served dream off the concrete

Maybe the rain will wash it off in the gutter and erase the memory of your defeat

Either way, you have to keep walking.

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