Graveyard of Lost Dreams

Graveyard of Lost Dreams

Words hang tattered and torn,
Little sentences snagged on thorns.
Little gaps in the briar patch,
Footholds wiped away.
Broken hearts like shattered glass
Litter the mossy ground.
Graveyard of lost dreams,
Tombstones proclaiming
Love and hope and fear.
Vultures hang low in the sky
Like gashes in black velvet,
Awaiting a fresh kill.
But there is no fresh kill here,
Where everything is buried 6 feet under.
The moon sheds light on the empty graves,
As the clank and clang of the shovel mounts.
The wind seems to cry, Look, an intruder!
Disturbing our solitary peace!
And yet the shovel bites lower,
The dirt piles higher and higher
To obscure the lone figure upturning it.
A sound lingers in the air,
A faint whistle as the girl reaches down into the ground
To remove her dream.
She holds it up to the moonlight and it twists and turns,
And slips from her hands to run away.