what is it like when a dream dies?
when the brightening of hope is crushed by
the darkness of failure?
it sounds like the crumpling of paper
ripped from its book, balled, thrown.
it rustles as it settles in with the other rubbish.
it is like a glass that falls to the ground
pieces scattering, irregular and cutting
it is tears streaming down cheeks,
fists balled in despair,
head bowed in acceptance.
it is the the hand of God, His voice
saying: "Though you fall,
you will not be utterly cast down."