Here again

Here this man sits again

Dreaming about learning

But not willing to study

Thinking of writing

But having nothing to say

Again, the dreams of freedom are stirring inside him

Hopes of things to come, possibilities that can be

Meanwhile realising that he has to be special

Wondering if he is not clinging to an illusion

Grabbing onto childhood fantasies for hope

Here this man sits again

Feeling like talking

But not knowing who to talk to

Craving to share

But having no one to share with

Once again, this man sits here, thinking of a saying:

"The more things change, the more they stay the same..."

His thoughts wander off to a friend of his, a stranger

Someone who believes that things are dark and misshapen

Claims to have been free always, yet bound in soul

Here this man sits again

Puzzled, thinking of poetry

Hoping someone will understand

What he is saying at all

Truth is not hard to fathom

Is it?