The silence of loneliness,
Can make the sweet so bitter,
It can darken good reason,
Until reason is no more,
Their routine being so unfulfilled,
Makes the lonely so insecure.
Dreaming Where do we go when we dream?
One day to our hopeful reality?
Having arrived at our unconscious haven,
Where will we go when we dream?

by Hugh Blackwood Cron

Other poems of HUGH BLACKWOOD CRON (2)

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