daydreamer

Through the stuffy hallways of sweaty children, baked from the boiling sun,
I run.
Past the towering figure with huge, bulging eyes, but knowing this time, I’ve won,
And nobody else sees me as I head for the door, holding my breath, they’ve seen nothing more than the pretty little picture they thrust upon my face, refusing to believe that one day I’d win the race.
And I feel a gaze upon my back, burning, ignorant, thinking she’s the only one,
And through the door of the invisible prison, I run.
Then I wake up sweating, filled with joy, then stop and look around to my horror,
Only to find that I’m in my own bed, a lowly daydreamer with more in my head
Than the world, or what I can see of it,
All behind glass as too many pass me right by and I long to be free of it.
Free of the nothing and no one at all,
Free of the crowds where I stumble and fall.
Out of the boundaries, the stop sign, the one way,
The caution tape that doesn’t care what I have to say.
There’s a kid who sits on the bench who sits there every day,
Watching everyone else in the school yard play.
I wonder if this is all I’ll ever be
Or if maybe one day someone will know me.