How Do Dreams Die

How do dreams die,
Taken away by an adolescent ambition.
The furry to be,
The success you see,
A decay of your religion;
Is it time.

Can this decision be mine;
A childhood innocence
Followed under the feathers
Of blind reason.
Living time through
A maze of unwinding roads.
Brought out in the cold,
Try to remember what you were told.
Be home before you get old
Or age will take you.

Which way do I go;
Wondered to far away from home.
The way back a memory,
Could you be on your own.
The sun is setting behind you,
Ahead a darkness clouds your vision
With what is unknown.

Uncertainty cuts
Into you,
Your mind once bold,
Now reeks havoc.
Will you grow the feathers of the old.
Or will you be lost
On a desolate road.
Whose end is a nomadic
Journey through the cold.

Why can’t you be told
Which road to take,
Which life is fake,
Can you wisely make this choice.
Should you listen to your own voice;
Or sit in the shadows
Of a barren field
Harvested of the yellow dreams
Once grown tall,
Now a dusty memory
With nothing at all.

-Scott E Buttross

Copyright ©2004 Scott E Buttross