Have you seen him on the street, resting his spineless jaw on his palm
Hawking his demised dreams for many potential buyers
That he may be so fortumate to have something quench his stomach ache
At the dawn of his life, he dream of arraying his glory in the sky,
For the glare of mankind to see and covet
soaring to the high heaven, for the angelic to sings his praises
He avowed to himself, to be of what is best for his own
But life as it is, give him different theme to write on
He wrote just like the rest, whose, desolated graveyard is their dwelling place
Did he skid his wheels too fast
Or run off course like a derailed train
With nothing to savage from his ruin?
Where do his broken dreams go?
Did it go to the realms of imperceptibilty of life,
Where all broken dreams go?
Ain't this life a gory tale
Needing no such things as
Broken dreams adding to its woes?
Broken dreams, desolated paths
All mapping the world in fretful cries
That my heart as become blinded by their shriek
What can i, to mend the world do
But to protect my own from breakage
And spare the world another broken dreams
©hayhem
H