Poetry

Like skyscrapers loom in the sky
My goals tower above me, dead eye staring at me
The pressure is ridiculous and I’m sick of it
These lofty goals are ruining me and I can’t reach them
It doesn’t help that over half of them are impossible
I feel like I’m in a cage running in circles
In one of those padded rooms you see in asylums
Just so I don’t do something stupid
Maybe it’s time I make my lofty goals into something else
Maybe possible goals would be a good start.