Tuesday 19 December 2017

Dream

                                                                DREAM


I used to walk every day, sculpting myself night and day.
It was art, like a potter with clay, or a Shakespearean soliloquy.
On these walks, I pondered my life choices,
Visualized my success as the world rejoices.
But my sounds were plagued by white noises,
My dreams were crushed by so many voices.
Why do I bear this pain in my brain in vain?
I abstain from my dreams, even if they’re ingrained.

I am numbed by my situation. It feels like a concussion.
I built my body for cremation even though I am your creation.
My hair is too long, my habits are wrong, my senses are gone.
If I am a sprinter, can I run a marathon? My life, you pawn.
My legs are cramping, I don’t stop walking, I start running.
When I reach my destination, I stop losing and start winning.
You don’t know me, you never will, if my obedience, is this drill.
With this weight on my head, I will run uphill, till I stand still.

I see so much on these walks. Leaves fall,
ragdolls, gold coins hidden by grasses tall.
I see railway tracks, never used, just existing.
My life in cracks, on a road, never taken, yet persisting.
I see my neighbor across the road, weary and old.
With long hair, old clothes and a look that shows he’s bored.
He walks like me, jobless and carefree, limping with cramps or a bad knee.
He recognizes my face and waves at me, tears flow, as I wave back at me.

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