A morning

I want to tell a tale

Of darkness and despair, of

Hope kicked out and lives

Kicked in, of drear walls

Clambered to the sky, of

Sullen midnight moanings

Of a daily defeat.

Freedoms drained away to the

Sewer of lost dreams.

And yet I cannot, or not

Entirely

For the the morn is fresh and the

Dew bright the

Light startling and new.

There's a feeling that life's

What you make it

That life led dark is not

Life true.

With the why and the when

The slowly unspooling yen

For a difference, for a

Wonder, for a due.

The owes nothing, that

Just is, that will be

As you fill it, there's

Trust that it won't

Pass me by.

So I can sit here

Quietly ponder,

Pen in hand, gently

Wander

Through the brush

The thickets of my mind.

Of memories that

Never were,

Friendships that could

Have been,

Riches untold, joys

Fulfilled, dense paths

Taken.

It's a mind game,

In short,

The only game there is,

It's a mind game that

Evolves all I see.