today i saw another dream slip away
i had it in my grasp,
i could smell it, i could almost touch it
dreams, why do they never seem to last

as i read once again,
the hurtful things you like to say
the hollow drip of stagnant hurt
it still remained,

change
found under bridges
by canals
where they built social prisons
in the high rise 1960’s

i am standing,
everytime a compliment is thrown
i reach out to catch it
but i move at the last moment

the record has stuck
with the needle in the groove
the scene of the past
no longer moves

they felt that they had got closer
to the truth
than anyone had before
that they had found
an inner truth like some magical door