Another one overhead
That makes the third one today.
It makes you puzzle
What mysteries they carry
And what messages they are
Left to be said.
To one another
The balloons carry onwards
A journey known by many to be suicidal
But they envy the risk
Of no longer being idle.
I sit here and watch them flee.
"To the new world!
We say it with glee!"
But that will never be me.
This lake I watch over.
Preserved by the abominations
Of other lovers
Is my keep
Forever fastened to see the stopping
And setting fleets
Of balloons in the sky
"Where do they venture off too?"
That's not my question
But I don't know why
Can't I ask?
Let alone
Leave with them and have a blast?
No.
You are to be tied to the land
That's what you need.
No voyages out to sea to be seen.
"Oh how I wish to see
The new world
And feel the glee
Of all these little things
How the sprouts and dew grow along the withered trees
And the rosebush looks as healthy
As can be.
But not I.
No sir,
Not I.
Another whether balloon overhead.
That makes four this time.
...what a dread.
I sit and watch them flee
Hoping one day,
I can get on the balloon
And carry on with such glee...
YOU ARE READING
The diary of a fiend
Poetry100+ poems that depict the intentions, dreams, and nightmares of a young writer and his battles to control his demons, vises, and life
