Life Is Essentially Just Waiting For A Bus
My heroes have always been the sad ones...
those fellows who tried, but failed...
the ones who dreamed,
but never saw their dreams come to anything...
the ones who had plans,
but never had the time or the money
or the right combination of things
to see the plans become something.
The one with his own brand of misery...
The guy who wanted something
so damn bad that he could almost taste it,
could see it, could nearly feel it,
and it was so close that he could smell it...
but he couldn't quite reach it...
his arms, his hopes, his dreams, his wants...
they fell just a little too short, somehow.
The underdog has his private fan club in me,
because I understand him, much too well.
A day late and a dollar short
is something that I can relate to,
and taking the wrong turn at the corner
has been a way of life for me.
Whether it is life and the pursuit of happiness,
or love and the pursuit of something that defies description,
or riches and the pursuit of the means to make dreams come true,
... none of it ever happens.
Being in the wrong place at the right time,
being at the end of the line when they close down,
being lost in the great treasure hunt of life...
... that's just the way it is.
So close,-- but no prize.
Eventually you just get tired,
and while you don't want to,
you realize that there's no use in chasing after
that which is unlikely to ever occur.
You don't want to,
but you finally accept it,
and you just stop.
You turn away,
and you try to find some reason
to keep on keepin' on,
because that's about all you know...
just keep on keepin' on,
and every once in a while,
remember an old, old dream.
(...up there on the wall in his mind,
there are all kinds of plaques,
all of them framed nicely,
a collection he started when he was a kid...
all the dreams and hopes and goals...
That wall is covered with scrolls and pictures and medals,
and right up there in the middle, somewhere,
in a small black frame,
is the knowledge that all of his dreams and hopes...
and the innocent thoughts that went with them...
... will never be the same again.
It likely never was, and will never be.
He looks over that wall every now and then,
and he comes to understand that
the only easy day was yesterday.)
Comments on this poem/writing:
|Terrye* (22.214.171.124) -- Wednesday, August 6 2008, 04:47 pm|
Deep- a cut so close to home..I appreciate it with much sincerity...i have had Dreams,become my reality, then poof!! only to be taken away..my Best dream was lost to Death, my Biggest dream was lost due to an accident..at the same time i gave up another..i had a failed dream, lost it to a Lie...today i hold on strong to my 2 strongest Accomplished of all dreams.. Bcoz,it helps me see that my dreams are still waitin' to become part of me.. i am one of many whom had the opportunity to see my dreams..many die makin' a dream real.i appreciate your writin'.
|Bipedalguy (126.96.36.199) -- Thursday, August 7 2008, 02:30 am|
When I was a teenager my forward view seemed full of mystery. I wondered "What will happen". I had no idea what wonders lay in store.
That future is now in my rear view mirror, and all I can say is "What happened"?
Your story is an excellent expression of the sad feeling of missed possibilities that most of us see fragments of when we reach the time when we can see our lives in retrospect.
Speaking of life, we all get through it. Maybe I'll get it right next time.
Great write. It strikes home.
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