There is a path hidden from sight.
Weeds grow and grass covers it.
The path is full of dreams.
Dreams that never came true,
dreams that even the dreamers forgot.
When I walk down this path,
I am reminded of the cruelties we face,
the sad truths that make us who we are.
Sometimes I see my dreams,
floating around, forgotten for so long.
I am stuck on this path.
Others walk with me.
We are forgotten.
Our dreams are so few,
and our beliefs so weak,
that we walk the path hidden from sight,
covered in weeds and dirt,
the path of the dreams,
that never came true.