Imagination

A Dead Imagination

Rust covered trees litter a barren landscape once home to your imagination.
Now the once abundant garden only harbors the memories of a dead past
A place where the slightest glimpse of sun is never seen,
And the word hope is too fragile to even whisper
Animals don't stay here, and people don't come to visit anymore
Who would?
This is a place of nothing.
This is a place of sadness.
This is the place where every dream goes to die.
For so many people.
This is adulthood.