spirits of dead dreams

surfing albums of old photos my younger days memories stored time good and bad bursting out of oblivion blue pulse down my aortic shivers down my spin head to toes drowning into a world of yesterday back where we were together dreaming and planing the future then the now Spouts devoid of all meaning devoid of all reason to go on devoid of you I'm but a silhouette of a dream wandering what happens to dreams when they die do they haunt us subconsciously do they have spirits of their own do they reincarnate into hope may be a spark in the darkened days so we might keep breathing drinking to a better day