You listen to the sounds of cars driving by, of mediocrity that you try to escape
and you're drowning.
you wonder how you'll ever leave.
this place, this dark place, this joyless place is slowly fading your colors.
you once were so vibrant.
you find yourself compromising your dreams.
you find yourself substituting your sparkle for the mediocrity they handed you
the mediocrity they served on a plate
they shoved down your throat and force fed you.
the mediocrity you've come to accept and you listen to cars driving by and you're drowning.
When the air doesn't make it to your Brain anymore. When your Lungs fill with the sickly sweet syrup of mediocrity
you dream of leaving.

“May the road rise to meet your feet”
And it did
well worn pavement surging to
Catch our shoes.
We ran through the masses, playing tag with our dreams
Buildings rising high enough to scrape heaven, theaters
Big enough to catch stars.

Lives flying by in a passing Taxi
Millions of stories waiting to unfold straight up into the sky
Step into one world
Or another
Find your future on the the city streets
A ticket in a crosswalk
A playbill in an unattended bike basket

The velvet curtains are thick and heavy enough to silence
Your insecurities
The stage lights are bright enough to blind your fears
The orchestra is loud enough to deafen your critics.
The Overture ends
And the rest of your life begins