The Curse of Dreams

Depression follows failures
But can also seek success,
The fruits for which you’ve worked
Sometimes lead you to excess.
A person bent on setting goals,
His work is never done,
Though often when his goals are met
Another plan’s begun.
But sometimes all the goals in life
Have met successful ends,
You’ve loved and have been loved
By numerous family and friends,
You’ve stacked your heaps of winnings
And accumulated toys,
But though you’ve earned all you could dream,
It brings you no more joys.
In less than thirty years 
I’ve reached the pinnacle of life,
Yet my days are so accompanied
By bitterness and strife,
There’s no lands left to conquer
And there’s no more rocks unturned,
There’s no more pages left to write
No candle left unburned.
The future seems a dreary place
With nothing left to give,
And questions rise within my head
Of whether I should live,
For every year from this point on
A failure it would seem,
Such is the curse of setting goals
And reaching for your dream.
DISCLAIMER: While many of my poems are reflections of my life experiences, emotions, or feelings on a particular topic, this one IS NOT. Seriously, I'm not crazy...