The Real Mccoy
Folding fragile dreams into paper boats
you launch them upon a river of tears.
And following the course anger promotes,
you watch as the last of them disappears.
It's time for you to gather up your thoughts
and let that origami drift away.
Go ahead and cry; humans aren't robots,
we suffer anxiety every day.
Confetti the wind with your fledgling dreams
and encourage them to take wing and fly.
For flight's never quite as hard as it seems,
and the truth's better than living a lie.
There's no future in being someone's toy,
when seeking love, seek out the real McCoy.
(Sonnet)
05/16/2020
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