confused, too young to have a midlife crisis

amused, too old to not be concerned with the prices

consumed, with the pressures of vices


actually i grow tired of writing in this form.

for i am free.

just when freedom seems to be within grasp,

i reach, but life pulls a plastic bag over my face and tells me to suck it in and wear it as a mask.



i reach for the stars but they’re already dead in the present time,

all we see are ghosts of the pasts

legends that still shine.


i hope to be like them

but do they know so many of us look up to them.

alcanzar las estrellas

reflections off of el mar

muerto, como ellas

i just want to be the sun, not another plummeting star.






via Daily Prompt: Reach


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