Here again


Here this man sits again
Dreaming about learning
But not willing to study
Thinking of writing
But having nothing to say

Again, the dreams of freedom are stirring inside him
Hopes of things to come, possibilities that can be
Meanwhile realising that he has to be special
Wondering if he is not clinging to an illusion
Grabbing onto childhood fantasies for hope

Here this man sits again
Feeling like talking
But not knowing who to talk to
Craving to share
But having no one to share with

Once again, this man sits here, thinking of a saying:
"The more things change, the more they stay the same..."
His thoughts wander off to a friend of his, a stranger
Someone who believes that things are dark and misshapen
Claims to have been free always, yet bound in soul

Here this man sits again
Puzzled, thinking of poetry
Hoping someone will understand
What he is saying at all
Truth is not hard to fathom
Is it?