Poem

I have ambitions, goals and dreams
I take no action
I subsist on others’ texts
Creating none myself

A strong sense of identity
Strongly muted, held back, lost
Engraving poems on the ocean
Watching them float off

Churlish on the inside
But forced to act all smooth
It feels like self-betrayal
Like two faced plenitude

The resources bloom abundant
But the encroaching facade restrains
In the dark and broken quiet
I recollect my name