lakelocked

i try not to get my hopes up too often it’s never as good as i convince myself it will be but i let myself believe in this one in the back of my mind the beach a week off work ocean waves hot sand fresh fish his birthday where reality can’t find me in 2019 it seemed like a great plan enter 2020 with it’s 99 problems but a beach ain’t one and so now another year will go by and i won’t get a chance to leave this humid lakelocked town that will soon cool down with drizzling rains and thick white snow people have lost their jobs their lives and their sanity and i’m doing all right untouched by disaster and richer from overtime so i should be grateful but i’m mostly just over it the long hours and late nights and going going going busy bee but i guess no beaches for bitches like me

Request permission to use this poem

Explore

Hello PoetryVoting

Write