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What the hell have I been doing
treading water, wasting time
making other people look good
crying over songs and stories
that once inspired me to dream.
I have forgotten my own words
that dreams die fast in the crush of daily life
unwatered plants that shrivel
boxes of forgotten poems
words that will die with me.
The persistent, the motivated, the disciplined,
wave as they pass me on the road
patting my back condescendingly
smiling at me sympathetically
leaving me in their dust.
What the hell have I been doing
fooling myself with promises of “someday”
while in reality not willing to do the work
finally understanding my life has been more
about the dreaming than the doing.
©2020 Noreen Braman
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