I always wanted to stay
Within the walls of my dreams,
Tightly enclosed within,
With bonds of heavy lead.
 
Man is selfish 
Thinks of nothing
Except self
And kills all respect.
 
Poetry is for the pure
To reach heights untold
Not to cheapen life
With meter and rhyme.
 
Flowers shall try to bloom
From buds cruelly bruised,
And still try to attempt
To live a life
Full of dreams.