Attic of hopes

Fears, aspirations, desires 
Hang in the attic, as shelled hope
Not to be seen
But now it’s hard to breathe
As the aura is strewn 
With hanging hope
Hitting against one another 

A walk in the attic
Is deemed to be bittersweet 
For broken pieces of hope 
Pierce the feet
Taut muscles constrict that visitor 
With a hazy view of what could be
Of what is left, of hanging hope.