I read this poem about the death of dreams,
That’s when I noticed what seemed to be,
A reliving of moments,
And tiring scenes,
It made me remember it,
That blood curdling scream,
I looked through new eyes,
Those that were clearly not mine,
Seeing the world behind those new lends,
Made me wonder,
Where does this world end?
What do we want and what can we do,
If behind every dream is the killers cue?
Do we stand and fight?
Is this a worthless battle?
What is with all this strife?
Are we not more than cattle?
The twins were destroyed,
And brought new actions,
This is not a mere void,
But we are diminishing with tension,
And there is only negative attachments,
For the simple sign of love attraction,
I write a poem about the death of a nation’s dream,
How with every one person there comes a new scream,
For a certain action,
For a love attraction,
That will one day raise those pitiful dead dreams.