The End of a Dream
They tell me to move along,
that it's time to move on,
but I can't help but linger
at the gravesite.
Others come to bury theirs.
They leave so quickly,
abandoning their charges to an endless cemetary.
I wonder how it came to this,
a lonely plot in the ground
with no marker, no one around,
and cried
for my own failure, my neglect,
for what has died
and what it means;
the end of a dream.
