Monday, March 15, 2010

Maybe beffuddlement does become me.

I reach and I reach
But my arms are never long enough
I stand high on my toes
By my balance is never proportioned
I run and I run
And I'm still on this dirt road

When will I see the buildings?
When will I seen the people?
Trees and flowers are lovely
Birds and clouds are pretty
But my eyes long for a change in scenery

Mountains don't grow where I'm from
Planes are only a distant imagination
The only things I see that scrape the sky
Are the birds that flap their formation

I dream and I dream
But I'm still rolling in my bed asleep
I wish and I wish
But my goals are no further away from words on a page
I run and I run
And I'm still on this dirt road.

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