To breathe is to imagine; not to see,
Still tethered to one side the safety rail,
For ambition is but too brash of me,
The unbreathed word discloses fear with glee
Across the brain towards the labeled trail:
To breathe is to imagine; not to see,
Before my time they were defined and free
The pictures of a thousand futures sale,
For ambition is but too brash of me,
These ventures that will ne'er be mine I flee
The ill-advised sad tyranny I fail,
To breathe is to imagine; not to see,
I story view from over shoulder lee
The willingness sound to wind chimes avail
For ambition is but too brash of me,
My own unfiltered envy says foresee,
Much superficial; pioneer of sail,
To breathe is to imagine; not to see,
For ambition is but too brash of me.
YOU ARE READING
Pictures of a Thousand Futures
PoetryAmongst them is the perception that future can be exchanged. Poetry of Villanelle Form in Iambic Pentameter by meveryotherday. Special thanks to Asya Cusima and Peter Gundry.
