Dreams

Dreams are born, dreams die, a new dream is birthing...

Where did they go

the heroes of the sixties


and their band of ragtag followers ?


hunted animals
panting to survive


surrounded by nigger bodies

hanging lifeless
from southern trees



they succumbed

to well aimed bullets



guns loaded carefully

sights aimed at their targets

by professional sharpshooters



enter the love assassins


how many bullets did it take

per hero all told

to kill the dream

for JFK ?

brain splattered over Jackie's designer suit


for Martin ?

bleeding from the head onto the motel floorboards

for Bobby ?

lying on the kitchen floor lifeless

for John Lennon ?

stilled forever in the grimy blood spattered street



so many bullets

yet the first one sealed their fate


a motorcade in Dallas

a motel in Memphis

a restaurant kitchen in San Francisco

a street in New York City


war zones

I like to think they died in peace..

Jack in triumph

Martin with friends...

Bobby having just won the nomination

John off for a nice walk...



all fell victim to the element

of surprise and

bullets perfectly aimed



Yet I will not surrender

to the tsunami of fear in my brain....

I cling to the life raft of hope

like a passenger on the Titanic


Lana G