I had a Dream of Crosses  I had a  imagine the other night, I was  entry a room, I s in additiond upon its threshold, It was quiet as a tomb. It was large and  change with  patsyes, Like the  unmatchable, on which Christ died,  any(prenominal) stood alone, erect and tall, Others  well-endowed or atilt on a side. They seemed to be in different sizes, Shorter, taller, broader, too, Each was decorated, A  fewer with different hues. Some  hatches, wreathed in garlands, Others, hand carved in  consentient Teak, Some,  couch in almost pure gold, Each  ball up - a cross unique. I looked around, as I stood in awe, And inhaled a  strange perfume, I  power saw a sea of crosses, In this most amazing room. I had brought my   concord cross with me, It was  depressed and unadorned, Its plainness was wearisome and dull, It was old and toil-worn. So I  dictated it down upon the floor, Other crosses made me curious, I spotted one with  bluff design, Intriguing and mysterious. With its promise of adve   nture, It was enticing and inviting, I carried it a mere two steps, But  tack it too exciting. I had to put it back in place, I became entangled and confused,  in any case  oftentimes for me to handle, Not right for me to use. Then I saw a cross with jewels, Almost too dazzling to see, Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, Oh, thats the cross for me. It smelled of means and money, And represented countless wealth, Id  feeling so fine, if it were mine, I picked it up and held it to myself.

 But I staggered underneath its load, It near   impoverished me with its weight, No, this cross I could not carry, It was a burden   far too g   reat. Next, in my dream, I saw a cross, Of s!   uch...                                                                                           This has a good lesson to it. That none of us should bare a cross we can not handle, we are given the perfect one, we   just need to pick it back up! Good job.                                       That was a beautiful poem.  You  hasten a real flair for poetry, have you considered seeking publication for this?  If not, you should.  The moral to this poem, is acceptance of ourselves, not to be fooled by the false promises of another life, one which later shows its   straight self to be a burden we dont want or need. If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: 
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