THEIR DEAD DREAMS.
There sits a girl with the kaleidoscope umbrella,
Under scintillating skies, she braces the weather.
The fighting charm, the lonely dream,
Never seemed vivid enough to be.
There walks the man with the detriment,
Scars cross his face like imprints of death.
His shoes are thudding, the hollow sound –
They echo and ring like bells all around.
There rests the city, sky bright and clear,
Effervescent colours all start to appear.
Their hopes, their dreams, all turn to ash,
Piled up in a wardrobe in a blinding flash.
There prowls the cat, slinking through the city,
He pauses for a second, but moves on – gritty.
Independent minds, they’re all too smart.
Never thought knives could pierce them through the heart.
There lie their dreams, all dead to dust.
Cut like bread from its wholesome crust.
There strolls their fate, the vulgar cries,
Shoot like lucid stars into the sky.
There you go, you hold your key.
Don’t ever let go, your life is free.
In your hands, you hold your fate.
Don’t let them wrench it away from you at your gate.
You unlock your treasure, you disenthrall,
The greatest glory of them all.
I want you to holler into the sky –
“tonight, tonight,
I will fly.”
