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Sunset Poppies

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I hope for night. 

In darkness no one can quite see the worst parts. 

 

I hope for quiet. 

Even when I'm all alone, I can still hear everyone else 

enjoying each others company. 

 

Outside the window

the world is a canvas

and I can see

all of the beauty

all the happy endings

all the possibilities. 

 

But thats outside. I'm stuck in here. 

Where only words are only stories

and stories are only words. 

 

In this city

where dreams come true, 

Why aren't mine?

 

If I haven't 

"made it"

here, can I make it

anywhere?

 

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