sweet november

Every day millions of humans help wake the sun up.

They bring it to the sky,

To show the universe their accomplishments.

This world, in my head,

Like sand, in my hands,

Slips away.

When we look to the sun;

We think a million different thoughts,

We have a million different dreams.

It's warmth is

Our fire.

It's presence,

Our growth.

Like saplings stand upright,

We rise from the dust

To be so much more, than sand slipped through fingertips

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