IT WAS JUST
A DREAM
On the outside looking in,
There is a dream I cannot touch.
And though I yearn for it very much,
This is a game too hard to win.
My dream fills me with elation
But when I snap out of this hallucination
I am distraught and consumed by devastation
Yet I still manage to continue like a performer of a
curtain-raiser
I refuse to partake in such a minor role
This is my life, my soul
I will not be the victim of the overseer
However, my efforts will have me exhausted
Perhaps I will give in
Let the fates win.
Reality and I have become acquainted.
Tanda McAuliffe, 2021