Graphite under my nails,
smudges over my hands.
I’ve been sculpting with pencil
all to help understand
myself, and what my yellow-brick-road
is leading to, further than I can see,
it’s so far off that if I get there,
will I even be me?
Tag: goals
Blockade
The wall of brick and bone and sweat
stands before me, blocking my path
to the end, the finish line and the emptiness after,
for what is after
I’ve achieved all my dreams?
Will it be enough to come to that finality,
the conclusion upon which I linger most,
or will the fire inside
continue to burn until I pass the herd
to stand on my own,
hearing my own trumpets and roars,
my heat beating its celebration
not of my ego,
but simply that I can still go on,
still progress,
still do what I love
and not let boredom brick me up
inside my own head.
Treeshallow Musings 