Pickle Power


Pickle and her glasses

There are echoes inside me. Millions of resounding chimes.
That speak of rising futurescapes and tempermental climbs.

These eyes reflect my vibrancy.
This laughter, my starlit song.
Each dimple writes a symphony.
That sings my soul along.

These echoes, they enfold me.
Time slips from my embrace. These times may melt and mold me.
But, these dreams are mine to chase.

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