No one reads these anyway.

Read and Review?

click click click

my fan keeps clicking away in my room loudly

as i try to sleep, never quite drifting away

because all i can look at is the map on my wall

taunting me with the places so close to my face

and yet i stay in this little room, this little town

not quite sure if i’ll ever leave but wishing that it would

be more than my wall those places are close to

maybe one day i’ll escape this routine of do this do that

and stress

and run

and run

and stress 

and write about all those little things my life could be

and make jokes about the things i could be doing

laugh and make fun of the famous people doing those things

making clever puns and references to hipster things

but i get sick of it, sick of references and dreaming and one day

i can forget about all the things i should be doing and just

do the things i love to do

i want to have a nice little camera and go around to all the beautiful 

and not so beautiful places and take pictures of the world just as i see it

and sit in front of the Lincoln Memorial and think about the fabulous and 

radical things that happened there, the people that left convention to the 

wind and defied their family and did something disgraceful to the time

and advocated for something and forgot about responsibility.

if only i could leave my backyard.