The death and life of a dream

a dream, it’s true
dies first
soft, tender, unattended
relegated to the long expanse of bygone
misplaced emotions
desires, secrets
decay at the bottom
of our malleable minds
archaic thoughts
forced to peek around life’s current corners
at treasures both luxuriant
and worthless without them
still sealed with intense
covert feelings
secretly stashed, it suddenly
will dust itself with doubting fingers
earnestly wanting to feel
needed again
trying hard not to crumble
when newly exposed