Crushed Dreams

Does the realization cut you like a knife? The realization that the dream Has diminished like the lungs of the dying? Alas, the dream is now festering like a blemish Cracking like a collapsing wall Shattering like a fallen wine glass. Does it fill you with grief? Does it dry like a lake in a searing land? Dispose of itself in the back of your mind And rot in your failure column? Alas, the dream is gone, Staring back at you Accusingly, forlornly, As it releases itself Into the dark pits of despair. Now it’s gone, Now it has disappeared.