Aspirations All The Same

Filled to the brim,
To the very tippy top.
Started oh so easy,
But now how do I stop?

My bruised and broken vessel,
My body does the job.
Contains the hidden masses,
Controls the screaming mob.

The mob that growls for vengeance,
The crowd that throbs with hate.
Justifying their own actions,
Creating their own fate.

A fate that fills with blackness,
As their hands reach towards the void.
Their fingers crushed wih sadness,
Their fragile hopes destroyed.

Just too late they realize,
To what they've been condemned.
Their eyes widen in horror,
Searching for a friend.

But one by one they tumble in,
Their breath caught in their throats.
The man of final judgment,
Collecting their last votes.

But more surge forth, to take their place,
In that final grisly scene.
Endless numbers writhing,
With a pallid deathly sheen.

These crawling, angry masses,
In their massive, foolish horde,
Spare no time for reason.
Peace nor logic can't afford.

These vengeful, swelling groups,
All bear a common name.
Some call them hopes, and others dreams,
Aspirations all the same.

They fill my mind and heart,
Till I can not clearly see.
Surely they've harmed others,
But why must they choose me?

Reviews

[Sharon Kim]

Very powerful! I love the rhythm of your poem. It reads very smoothly. I like the twist in this poem. I always have felt that aspirations, hopes, and dreams were positive things. Your poem makes me see them in a different light. Well done!

[Bookworm1223]

Thanks :) I'm glad you liked it :) I'm glad I could help you see different perspectives :)