When the young met the old
There was silence involved
A deafening silence, none heard at all.
There once was a child
Who tread no denial
On webs spun with dreams,
The young had built an empire.
And how in graves did they scream,
Those dreams were meant for me
So selfishly were those dreams meant to be.
For when the young met the old
A story was told,
And dreams do not grow
As they so selfishly seemed.