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.