you and i both know that at some point chalk drawings wash away.
so why deny this well known fact?
don't give me this hope just to tear it all down before my eyes.
i know that dreams have just as many boundaries.
but when i reach for stars and touch nothing but clouds,
i still get this amazing feeling
that others can't even begin to believe.
this feeling may be withering away
being as strong as the flame on a flickering candle.
but this flame hasn't burned out just yet.
quiting is for smoking and drinking,
not daydreaming past noon.
i loathe being confined by these 4-cornered walls.
so i ping pong back and fourth.
a game of table tennis in the midst.
i rebound across hostile territory between these two worlds.
worlds where the clouds in the sky turn out to be icebergs afloat on the water front.
all i can do is hope.
hope that the game continues, undefeated, without the tragic end of falling off the edge.