Goals

I really wanted to
But,

There was a wall, a mile high, smooth with no handholds.
A fence, running long, draped with razor wire.
It was a mound of dirt, insurmountable.
A blade of grass, quaking in the wind.

It couldn’t be done. Not overcome, curbed, conquered, or defeated.

It was a snail trail. A crumb. A casting of light,
That kept me.

Unattainable. Hopeless. Not to be won. Mostly it was absurd to dream it.

I really wanted to
But,

I wouldn’t.