The Death of a Dream

I think I've written only a very few poems in my life and I've noticed the best ones arise not from my brain, but from my emotions. That's what I feel like at least. Either way, here's a poem I wrote recently:

 

A dream crushed
survives
at first
in false hope

of redemption.
Refusing to die,
it begs for
a second chance,
but
the oxygen is
gone,
and the flame
is extinguished.