Shattered Dreams
Everyone needs wings.
Everyone needs to fly.
Everyone needs to get away,
when tides become too high.
Every moment they are asleep.
Even while awake:
Dreams are private worlds.
From them our will we take.
Something to consider.
A way to break away.
A way to forget the stress,
the heartache of each day.
Each to their own.
Bound by long-disproven dreams.
Ready to prove what they can do.
To be more than they may seem.
To make it come true.
Hoping someday it may be.
Even when you cry at night,
they give off something you can see.
Someone reads them,
finding, yelling what they think.
Often displacing, leaving them.
You feel them start to sink.
The laughter at you, yourself,
is too much to work out.
Everything you clutched is gone,
taken in a single bout.
Now that someone else knows,
you feel it cannot be.
But most will shatter them as well.
Leaving nothing to belive.
Shattering not only your dreams,
but your very soul.
Staying back, staying away,
crawling into yourself, void black hole.
Shattered dreams can scratch.
Cut you while you cry.
Draining inside, bleeding forever,
depressed enough to die.
Carrying on, still broken.
Destroyed on the inside.
Shattered dreams, broken wings.
Now I can never fly.
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