Dead-end

Childhood feels like it will never end 

Until the dead end 

The dead-end is the dreaded continuation of life 

When you reach this point the flowers start to die 

As well as your dreams 

The songs of the birds start to sound like screams 

And the opportunities start to make you choose 

So why do I have to choose? 

I want it all 

The dreams from when I was a kid now feel stupid 

 knowing I never chose to follow them because I was always told no 

Now I keep them secret, 

like the sea building a wave 

Or the dirt covering up seeds 

Now as I find my dreams they either seem too big 

Or not big enough.