a kitchen table; some fine wine
a conversation is how i wish to dine
but ideas fall on deaf ears
recycled into walls while my thoughts bounce down the halls
like basketballs waiting for a chance to pass –
dreams turn to fears, i need to switch gears
wondering how long i can last in this place
i don’t even feel like i have my own space
almost a decade and the walls are bare
cant seem to be comfortable anywhere
simplicity speaks but has no wings, no feet, no substance –
i scream defeat
dedicated – i relate it to the dreams in my mind
while i’m walking up the path you never thought i would find
still these empty walls, they echo dreams
of conversation by any means