The Minnow

Have I woken from a dream?
Or does this fruitless mirage waver, like restless rain?
Do I paint with idle colours? Or watch them trickle into the drain?
I have flickered like a candle, awoken by gentle flame
Waiting for a railroad, to be built and broken again

Do I assume the world is magic? Or lost in folds of tomorrow?
Can I cast myself beneath a cloud? To shower me in sorrow
For I sleep in changing people, personality I borrow
Masks of moving thoughts, without them I feel hollow

Now the colours are a vision, that cascade from the sky
Wondrous scars of yesterday that leave me wondering why
I woke up in the first place, my head upon the pillow
Swimming through a little stream as a silver minnow

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

I get a sense of regret from this one, as though the speaker is looking back on the past and wishing it had been better. He may have in some way lived his life through others, who are no longer around. Now he feels he settled for too little. Maybe.