Years Later

Who knows what’s best
For life’s conquest?
Dusty dreams —
Means tearing apart seams
Or — safety soars
That kill the want for more.
For the heart is known
For foolish decisions, then mourn
A regret so awry,
That you make it your story.
A wisdom so doomed
It leaves you feeling consumed,
And breaths that stage
A life in cage.
There’s the mirror,
It’s showing a blurry image.
Did my safety get me here?
Or was it the heart?
Or am I just craving
For a runway and a new start?
But runways don’t clear
If I sit here, immersed in this beer.
And new starts don’t come by
If I refuse to look up at the sky.


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