I remember at that time, when the clouds were as heavy with rain as my eyes were with tears, my star and I stood at the bridge and remembered that when I was younger I had played a game. My star threw stones into the river of which my salty tears held up the branches; those branches and those stones had both floated back when I was happy and without incessant curiosity. But today, as I stopped to think about how it was possible those heavy stones were able to float, I looked at one as I threw it in. It sank. Dreams were only possible when I believed. Lonely are the people that cried on the bridge of this river before I, the tears had filled the embankment and made it a river. But those tears glistened, shining with hope. I ask my tears, why have I broken again? Go and join your friends. There will be more to follow, even if it causes this river to swell and overflow. There used to be an overflow of something different in my life… my star called my name. ‘Don’t listen to the world, there are too many questions. Are you crying yet?’ My star shone in the sky tonight and my tears stopped. The stone I had dropped earlier rose up as the moon shone in my smile. The reflection was beautiful just like the glistening hope that carried my stone.

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