Tell the stars I’m ready to meet them,
The universe I’m ready to Be,
Tell the mountains I’ll never climb them,
I commit myself to the sea.
Despite the allure of grandeur,
The future offers me,
I’m just not strong enough to reach out,
Only weak enough to bleed.
I write because there’s no one to talk to,
So I make up people that do,
I write there hopes and dreams,
And hope they might one day come true.
But I plan for when I’ll drizzle honey light,
Across an inky sky of faded night,
On top of a city full of sleeping souls,
Maybe then I’ll have done something right.
Once I dreamed of a house by the beach,
With a fridge full of cake easily in reach,
A dog by my chair and a cat on my lap,
Ha! Wouldn’t that have been a peach?