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