Half asleep, but waken whole.
Time took all its toll
without a dime to spare for me,
but the dreams that I had stole
are priceless now I'm working for
a broken dollar sign.
Awoken by the dreams of theirs
as if those dreams were mine.
I've got this train of thought I bought
off the rails of which I fell.
Headed towards a mountain peak,
but one can never tell
if the mountain's but a hillside
or if the climbing's far too steep.
Yet still we climb and climb and climb
without a look, without a leap.
Broken dollar signs,
but all I need's the peak.
The strongest thought of mine
is to concede that I am weak.
I'm amiss but still redeeming,
forging dimes from solid steel.
I assist to keep them dreaming
because dreams are all that's real.
My first poem was written on May 15th, 1995. It was about basketball. Every year on that date since I write another poem about where I am in my basketball life. The original is in some notebook somewhere, and I'll add it to the site one day. Click here to see others.
