Poetry

The aspiring star

That was once my soul

Is telling stories of giving up.

Change is just too hard.

And besides,

I’ve started smoking too much,

Drinking too little,

Waking up too early, 

Going to bed too late,

Making too many promises

That things will be
like before,

When I was a better man:-

Thinner, healthier, kinder,

More disciplined,

More everything.

But I was never the man 

I used to be.

And neither will I be 

Tomorrow’s man.

So then, 

How can I just be me?

A train’s steel wheels screech;
An abandoned cigarette
Lying on the beach.

I could have made sweet
Perfume but instead, I made
Words where souls might meet.

An amber eyed owl
Ascends into air azure.
An outcast’s abode.