What happens to dreamers who dream too big? Where do they dwell? Somewhere in the shadows of the loftiest dream dreamt buried beneath their hill of dreams. Screams and dreams becoming overwhelming nightmares haunting and shaking confidence. What happens to the dreams that the steps are never taken? Where do they trespass? On failing faltering trippings, they fumble to nothing moments. Random they search for souls. Souls not too shattered to live. Souls who jump and dance and sing. Dreams, they abandon the weak the small, the insecure. Abandon becomes bitter angst toward, what could have been the promise of hope.
I am a failed dreamer, hanging on.