empty places

I wander aimlessly on the footpaths
in my mind. I dream of becoming,
but I a can never reach the stars.

I am plagued, captured, tormented
by the pain of wanting and never
shall I find the path that is mine.

I stumble down stairs, and streets,
into the fresh air, but all is stale –
the broken cds, used books, and

I stare blankly, unsure of what I
actually see. There is nothing,
There is everything. Hope have

I long forgotten.