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.
