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What happens to a smile that fades?
What happens to a spirit that is slashed by life's bitter hand?
What happens to a hope that is tarnished?
What happens when a dream dies?
Do they all end up in the same place?
Do they all sleep peacefully in satin pajamas?
Eat leisurely breakfasts in bed?
Play sets of tennis on the weekend?
Shop at the GAP and hang out at the mall?
"What happens to a dream deferred?"
How does one sleep?
How does one eat?
How does one live?
Do you care?
Can you not?
Curl into bed tonight, when
not even visions of Jack Dawson are able to console you
as you wallow in the despair of your
perceived substance.
Your emptiness.
And in a voice that echoes the millions of dead thinkers,
the ones who have asked these questions for ages and ages,
cry out the loneliness of our existence.
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