Every dream has been shattered.
I want to be free from the anguish.
As I struggle to understand,
I walk to the window and stare.

A bird was singing in the garden.
It saw my hand and flew away.
I drove away its beautiful song.
Nothing is going my way anymore.

Night is falling and I hope to rest.
I must wait for sleep to return.
Awake or not, it is hard to live here.
I hope to leave soon and be free.

William Wayne Smith

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Flickr.com: Moon by Hernán Piñera CC BY-SA 2.0