Fragile promises
An original poem:
Perhaps a rainbow is nothing more,
Than the prism of light that forms it.
Perhaps promises are nothing more,
Than words cheapened by science.
I overslept this morning. Sometimes I feel like sleep is my refuge from having to face another day — another day of feeling like I’m not where I’m supposed to be. This is perhaps the first period of my life when I’ve ever felt that way.
Life is a gift, and yet sometimes it feels like a burden. I can’t see beyond the fog of my present situation … I have no vision of something to hold on to. I am tortured with hopeless ambition without goals to pursue. My dreams are becoming wisps of smoke, and the promise of happiness is nothing more to me than a rainbow — beautiful but intangible, illusory. Rainbows are nice and all, but if there’s anyone up there, will you end the fucking flood already?
Tomorrow is another day … I wish I had more to look forward to.
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