They

They’re never what they seem, these dreams of mine;

Flightless fantasy gives way to the harsh truth

That what I seek, what they seek,

Can never be joined as one,

For our goals are not the same.

What I envision, my true calling for life,

Is quickly washed away by the multitudes grown cold,

By life in all its sorrows,

Each day growing more so.

I cannot case off my shoulders

The burdens to another

That I am meant to bear.

This is life, to accept or reject,

To grab hold or let go,

To live or die;

To which end will I go?

7/13/08 - MR