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.