The stagnation in my soul has turned to coagulated gold,glimmering in the depths like promises left
unkept,
waiting to be found and mined,
thrust forth into the light,
weighed and scaled for values untold and not yet in my sight.
And I feel a strain -
a burden with this pain,
of these riches not yet fulfilled, a balance not yet billed
and hopes of better yesterdays killed,
slaughtered and bleeding out on this moment's doorstep,
a footnote obituary of the past posted in tomorrow's newspaper,
with no reader and no circulation,
just an inflated feeling in a deflated nation,
a movie on repeat while we run around from station to station.
And the golden sludge pumping through my blood leaves me
breathless,
Simultaneously weighed down and free,
waiting for the moment where stagnation turns to inspiration,
and inspiration fuels motivation
and the motivation leaves me pouring my golden coagulation out on the sidewalk in a stream
thinking,
"This is what it's like to be me."
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