Death Of The American Dream

Franchesca Richards, Contributing Writer

 Death Of The American Dream 


Everyday life is at an end..same old same old,

Getting older nevertheless as hours upon hours disappear into the night.

As night falls you beg for more wondering if you made the right choice,

Leaving your wife and the children she bore astray.


As you chase the American Dream seeing your life fly by like a kite 

Wondering if you have been led on the right path to a new height.

They say keep your head down, don’t misbehave

You’re nonetheless the 20th century slave.


The world is your oyster, that’s what they say…

But with your life being disrupted this way

It’s hard to say who is right on this day.

Diminished with sin, dashed hopes, and plotted schemes,

Here lies the American dream.


In the death of the American Dream this is what our forefathers died for,

And what so many honest people tried for.

This is what we thought was a good life,

Sliced away day by day by a sharp knife.

And that knife’s name is poverty,

Slicing and dicing while so many honest men are robbin’ me.


At this point the American dream has dried up like a raisin in the sun,

The American Dream lies dead here.

We go before this place and shield our eyes 

Muttering prayers hoping it can save our lives.


A single petal drifted from a tree,

Though blissful and elegant as it had been before,

And profoundly waiting for a new journey,

This beauty can be no more.


This is the time for beauty to now rest her imperfected head,

Because this beauty is on to a new journey.

The new beauty is on a path of her dreams

But in the end this dream joins the unperceived dead

In the death of the American Dream.


Editors’ Note: This submission is part of The Bulldawg Bulletin’s new literary section, which focuses on creative writing by our students. Views expressed in the Literary Corner are those solely of the author.