Smiling Past the Dream

In the old wooden box, 

Lay the dream she buried, 

Her dreams, her love ; all locked,

Her wings to fly, cut long ago, 

Pushed into things she didn’t like, 

Telling her that’s life, 

She packed away her dreams,

Growing into someone beautiful but composed, 

She doesn’t dream, she just smiles,

The remnants of her dream still in the haze, 

She’s past it but the dream still lingers in her soul.