Smokey dreams

A hint of nostalgia

Under the bridge of memories

I find myself perched

The shuttering noise

of the missed train

And the anticipation

of the approaching one

Is something I’ve cherished always

They sit and talk to me

for they admire my words

But from a distance, lest

they start to bleed

Success is an idea, and

so is being free

What might be enough for you

Isn’t enough territory (for me)

I tell them with an open heart

Try and live for a day

the way you want

They take a step back

Apprehension filled faces

An embedded conservative stance

Is all they manage

With a hand clutching the chains

of fear and slavery

The train I await

is still quite far

The question remains, to be or not to be

Hands are clutched tight

with some dreams and fear again

Quietly perched at my spot

I admire the passing train

“Some other time”

I hear a distant voice

Nobody in sight

Smokey dreams are so lame.

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