Trisha wants to be a ballerina
Twirl on her toes
Kiss the heavens with her nose
But mama won't let such ideas linger
"It's a risky business" she warns
With a tsk-tsking of her fingerJimmy wants to be like his dad
Fighting for his country on the field
But how could a man
War beaten and sad
Send his only son to a fate that's been sealedCharlie paints his picture a scene of space
He points excitedly to each planet and moon
"I'll be there soon"
But his teacher stares with a blank face
"Don't set your sights too high"
"But I just want to fly"Break free, break free
These lost goals
These failed dreams
They can't hold meHer mop twirls
While clinical lemon fills her nostrils
"Trisha you missed a spot" her manager bellows
She makes minimum wage
But belongs on the stageMan pumpin' gas, mind starts to drift off
Next customer wakes him with a cough
Jimmy returns to reality with a sigh
Fills up her tank
She utters a thanks
Not quite the badge of honor he had in mindThat's his tenth tonight
"Charlie you gotta stop" the bartender fights
Stumbling out the door
Falls face down on the sidewalk floor
He figures the night sky is covered in stars
But he can't see that farBreak free, break free
These lost goals
These failed dreams
They can't hold me
YOU ARE READING
Tacenda
Poetrytacenda (n.) things better left unsaid; matters to be passed over in silence