Dreamer's Diet

A poem in protest of all the impossibility of things that life throws at you.

If you wake up tomorrow

Feeling as alone as you do today

And your mother offers an apology

Saying, “I’m sorry but your world is yours to make,”

And says, “That if it isn’t what it seems

Then you’ve only just learned the simplest of things

It is nothing new

It is not a thought unique to you

Or me.”

 

To the woman in the room below me

Bickering with the man over trinkets, over love, over money

If you feel lost and unraveled

Know it is not just you in your travels

If he is not the one for you

It should become obvious when you argue

But don’t you worry

The rest of us are shouting at our walls

And wives and husbands and sons and dogs

 

And ruminant, quiet, afterwards

Chewing over whether our words were too harsh

It’s just these walls they box you in

And take from the air its very oxygen

While your lungs have no air to cling too

 

So that you don’t suffocate

You exit the small room into the large day

To find unfathomable horizons

Just beyond reach

And your bitterness renews itself

Daily 

 

 

 

Author's Note

A dreary one that I think has some truth to it. Please share any thoughts you might have on the content.