Balls of paper, shards of wood,
Stumps of stone where heroes stood.
Ruffled feathers, doleful screams,
Broken hearts and mangled dreams.

A bridal dress, a wedding cake,
An empty shell from a sad mistake.
She lives, she cries, and no one tries
To understand, to realize
What she has carried through her years:
Solemn fears and broken tears,
Mourning for a dream bereft,
Holding dear what she has left
Till nothing more of her remains
But her timid, earthly, mortal chains.
Now above us she flies free,
Not tethered down like you and me.
But a broken dream does not return,
And in her soul, the lack still burns.

Shredded cloth and melted metal,
Black scraps of a rose’s petal.
Angel’s tears, forgotten gleams,
Empty souls and shattered dreams.

A golden medal, worn to show
Nike’s most regal hero,
A champion of unrivaled skill,
A victor with an iron will.
Beneath a young man’s armored skin,
These dreams of glory lie within.
But as he advances and upgrades,
The noble visions slowly fade.
The hopes beginning young and bold
Will wither and die as he grows old,
And as the child became a man,
He soon forgot his boyhood plans,
For what seemed grand so long ago
Had quickly lost its cherished glow.

Balls of cloth and shards of metal,
Stumps of stone, a rose’s petal
Broken souls and doleful gleams
In this yard of broken dreams.