A poem by Sydney Stone. I do not own the image.
***
Have you wished upon a star?
Fickle hope born oh so far?
From the breast that holds it dear,
Seems so close, but never near,
To the one who needs it most,
But like a parasite to host,
It weedles in and burrows deep,
And when it’s false, the tears they weep,
Falling softly thereupon,
The hopes and wishes of a pawn.
Fevered Mind 
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