Really cuts holes in a few morning hours after waking. The rest of the day cuts away dreams wasted. I sit in a room. See coffee clouds in my cup, drink it. That’s my day, disturbing my dreams. Feel like a goldfish in a glass jar. I wait for a few food flakes. Some days there are none and I swim with one flip of tail, turn around to get a different perspective then realize it’s going to be the same tomorrow.
Really cuts holes in a few morning hours after waking. The rest of the day cuts away dreams wasted. I sit in a room. See coffee clouds in my cup, drink it. That’s my day, disturbing my dreams. Feel like a goldfish in a glass jar. I wait for a few food flakes. Some days there are none and I swim with one flip of tail, turn around to get a different perspective then realize it’s going to be the same tomorrow.
This poem for me highlights the purpose of patience.
Well put. My dad would always say that patience was a virtue. Then added that I should keep busy while I was waiting.
Did your mother step out of your dreams to follow you?
In a way, yes.