Middle of the Road

There’s a long, winding path
I’m supposed to be on
funny how I got here instead;

It’s a tricky thing, adulthood
it lures with promise of milk and honey,
and golden ring
yet the grass isn’t greener nor sky bluer
as far as way beyond.

©ggarcia

You sleep, but I
I live vicariously through the night.
Cursed as morning comes and I
crash to the ground.

Should the gods take pity
sometime soon,
and slap me with fortune of solitude
even as my eyelids flap open
it’s a gift I welcome.

With smile, look
at this sundrenched view before me
I drink to my yearnings
long over
my heartaches
linger.