Miss-guided Ambition

Humble beginnings

Misguided Ambition

 

Starting at the bottom ... dreams in my hand

All things seem possible ... my style is not cramped

 

With folks of my likeness ... integrity in tact

I set out on the journey ... prepared and packed

 

I’ll come to some cross roads ... and at times run out of gas

l lean and ask for help ... from the ones I passed

 

Or from the ones on the way back ... from where I want to go

They’re wounded and bleeding ... but never say no

 

We started with so many ... but fewer now are here

Some could not keep up ... but I did not care.

 

The goal in my life ... and what I wanted to reach

Was made for just one ... at the top of the heap

 

The further I go ... it looks the ones I pass

Look just like me  ... a pain in the ass

 

I’m glad they are going back ... to make room for me

For I will be different ... you’ll wait and see.

 

The ones who were with me ... when I started this trip

Have now turned back ... I’m alone on my ship

 

The dreamboat I own ... has a motor and sail

All things seem smooth ... in this ocean of the frail

 

I’ll set my own course ... without interference from them

Who fell by the way side ... exhausted and dense

 

I’m close to the top ... and surely all alone

No feelings have I left ... I’m dry to the bone

 

The few now I see ... have eyes filled with greed

Their feet run to evil ... as their hunger they feed

 

I feel right at home ... now with my own kind

My dreams are fulfilled ... I’m justified in mind

 

Now a storm starts building ... and my boat starts to roll

I search for my heart ... all I find is a black hole

 

That sucked up and nullified ... all the ones I met

No one now to turn too ... I’m caught in my own net

 

Someone is coming ... he looks just like me

Death in his eyes ... maybe he’ll set me free

 

Will he take my place ... as with a knife in hand?

He cuts my rope ... and my desire in offence

 

I’m dropping like a stone ... to the place where I began

Instead of going up ... I’ll just start digging down

 

Strange the grave I find ... I dug on my way up

It was already waiting ... to swallow me up.

 

Jan Wienen

This poem is about: 
Me

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