Dreams

*This is like my poem Love*

I always thought

That maybe dreams could come true

But that's hard to make those dreams

To come true

It may almost be impossible

To make things

Like love

Come true

Love. Hate. Friendship. Desire.

The only things that come from those

Are loss and pain

Stabbing through your flesh

Like a knife

Cutting deep into your heart

To find the soul

That once was there

But is no more

Dreams don't come true

You have to make them come true

But no one cares

About your dreams--

All they do

Is just smash them

Into a million pieces

And it hurts so much--

The pain inside--

Like small shards of glass

That you cannot remove.