#418 Vicariously - Poem by Jimmie Arrington
Some days I don't like myself,
Most days I'm drifting on a dream.
A jilted book on a shelf
Never shares its ambitious theme.
It's a constant yellow light,
Do I hit the gas or the brake?
A sunny morn kills the night
And smiles wryly at the wake.
There's a man somewhere out there
Whose dreams are a reality.
He's completely unaware
I'm living vicariously.
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