The Nightmare

I’m dreaming of something besides the disappointment my life has become, something that brightens my soul instead of weighing me down. 

The reality is a darkness that fills my days every moment I’m awake, gray clouds block the sunshine.  Tornadoes invade my space and suck the wind out of me; I can’t breathe. 

I’ve become a perpetual slave to the grungy, dirt smeared machine of adulthood: I work to pay my bills, my bills fuel my existence, I exist to work. 

I used to dream and have passion, hobbies and excitement.  I used to have fun.  Now I look into the eyes of my son and just pray to God he does better than I did.


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