Caged Ambition

After I wrote this, I felt relived like a rain cloud after a storm. This poem from my journal. It's personal. But I thought others, who feel the same, would like it also so I posted.

In Canada, the land of mount and green

there is a no-name town which, few have ever seen.

Nobody lives in this mundane town

but many you will see, if on visit, you go down.

I see this lovely eye-sorrow, with its flowers

yelling children, churches, Tim Hortons and towers

Saying, "I feel chrostophobic. This place is too small,

is there something wrong or am I too big for this all?"

The people here, they all seem blind

because to agree with my visions, they're disinclined.

All prematurely settle down, start families and have a kid

if I was them... all that, I'd get rid.

"For what is all that, when you can have more,

such as a name, a business, a book", I implore.

All plan their lives as others before.

I do not see the glamour in this, they adore.

Saying, "In the western world, all the great people of old

became what they are for through individuality bold."

I argue these points but no one here cares

Probably because there goal in life is to die, not put on airs.

Indeed this place is no place for me.

Indeed I should run as fast as can be.

And yet, fast legs won't carry me anywhere

I have 6 dollars in saving, I'm not a millionaire.

An ambition that only youth can plot

And hands that don't want rest, that's what I got.

And if any great person didn't have this

surely my friend, something's amiss.  

Author's Note

I notice that my work is very wordy. If you read it too quick you'll miss words that will leave you confused and the poem will miss its point. But besides that, I like the ending.