Death Of A Dream Poem by Christopher Tye

Death Of A Dream

When I was young dreams could come true,
A whole world of knowledge and adventures awaited,
Freedom from society's constraints and restrictions,
Only restricted by my own mind's limitations.

Complete freedom was the dream I was living,
Able to do anything that I put my mind to,
Being able to teach myself faster and better than any teacher could,
Able to build anything I dreamed of with ease.

Then as age starts to sneak upon you things change,
Dreams start to die before your eyes,
Time catches up with you and dreams start to crumble,
Death of a dream becomes the death of your dream.

Life tearing away everything you ever loved,
Death stealing all your family and friends,
Hope dying as reality bites with vengeance,
Death of a dream bringing you only sorrow and despair.

Progress stripping away everything that was once dear to me,
Old shops and shopkeepers replaced by multinational giants,
Old mixed farms giving way to factory farms,
An olde worlde England that died like my dreams.

The cattle drovers long gone like my hopes for the future,
Schools in every village long since shut regardless of the cost to save a few pennies,
Village shops and village life dying away so fast,
Death of village communities dying like the dreams of a nation.

Dreams slowly died like the England I once knew,
An England that was a field of dreams to all,
The England of my youth has long since died even in my dreams,
Death of a dream becoming the death of human spirit.

By Christopher Tye