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Constant, unimaginableSame flow, different road.The traffic, the lightsThe intersection and signsAre all the same but the day.
Different cars, faces and voicesEchoes bounce backDifferent waves, intensity and direction.The breeze is still but never the same.
Yesterday, today and tomorrowWe walk the same path and followThe same moments of the pastAnd thinking the moments would last
But it’s the same thing all over againLike the hands of the clock on the wallCircling and circling ’til the endTelling the same, right but different call.
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This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.
Dreams, desires, id and ego.
This poem is about our failure to feel fulfilled by our constant consumption of life.
Read it and find out.