Reduced to Powder

My dreams:

My dreams: Ground down to dust by probability.

My aspirations:

My aspirations: Granulated finely by a sense of failure.

My hopes for the future:

My hopes for the future: Shattered by a bolt of reality.

Now I’m staring at the end of this poem.

Now I’m staring at the end of this poem. I am staring at my dreams, my aspirations, and my hopes,

Now I’m staring at the end of this poem. I am staring at my dreams, my aspirations, and my hopes, all reduced to powder,

Now I’m staring at the end of this poem. I am staring at my dreams, my aspirations, and my hopes, all reduced to powder, but not gone.