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...