What happens when a dream dies?

Does it make a sound,
like a tree falling down,
the rushing of the leaves,
the cracks of its bark hitting the earth

Is it like a scream,
muffled by a feathers’ pillow
in an empty house
full of white blankets

Does it smell like dry flowers
between the pages
of a notebook
never used

Are the dreams
never born
truly gone forever

And if they are,
does anybody know
where they go

Are the dreams that go away

a question mark left hanging in the air

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