The tale of lost hope.
The charm you gave me, the talisman of hope, was worn with pride for years upon years.
On a braided string, around my neck, you gave me a star to wish upon. ‘Twas a little charm, a pewter castle, giving me a wall when my own was gone.
You brought me luck, I do believe, until that fateful decision. I believed that if you meant that much to me, you would mean that much more to a friend.
I didn’t know that you would be stowed away, never to be worn. A useless hunk of metal, you were lost in the mix. I’ve not seen you in so long, and I’ve seen little in the way of hope.
Little talisman, I keep you alive, burnt in my soul, a memory of happiness that has long since past.
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