I can see the rest of my life
Stretched out before me like a vast, barren landscape.
An exquisite panorama of nothingness.
Day after day melt into one another,
A continuum of mundane activities.
I can close my eyes and pick out
Any day and it will not be
Any different from the rest. Looking back,
I can see the bones of my hopes
Lying behind me. Shameless in their nakedness.
All my mistakes scattered
here and there, monuments to my failures.
And there's loneliness.
Loneliness like a little child
Chained to my waist,
Keeping me company.
I dream it will turn into a balloon
And fly away from me.
But let's be real here
We all know that is not to be.
There the future awaits
In the distant horizon, hazy as a mirage.
If I follow the trajectory of history
I can see I've already crossed the highest point.
My glory days mock me from behind-
"It's all a downward ***** from here."
I can already feel my
Bones buckling under the weight
Of expectations.
So I lay down my weapons
And close my eyes.
Turn up the volume, turn off the lights.
I will turn this barren land
Into my utopia, in my sleep.
I'm hoping to submit this to be selected for an anthology, so any suggestions for corrections/ improvement are welcome