Dying Town

This place is like poison

Killing me from the inside out

And leaving what's dead to rot

 

The people force me to put up a facade

To whitewash the tomb that I have become

 

I smile and laugh and go through the motions

But I don't know if I'll make it out alive!

Will there be anything left of me and my dreams

When I finally have the power to flee this place?

 

Or will I fade away and be forgotten

Without showing the world me

 

I fear mediocrity

I fear that I will never have the chance

To try my hardest and feel my potential

I'm afraid, so very afraid of becoming lost

Of drifting helplessly into a pathetic, apathetic life of average

 

I don't want to work in a dead end job in a dying town

Living paycheck to paycheck

Hoping and praying that the business doesn't close or leave town

 

The air here chokes me

It's stale and bitter and gets worse everyday

 

I scrabble for a hand hold

 A way, anyway, to pull myself out of this town

I need to leave

Or one day I will choke to death

 

I don't want to save the world, change the world, or realize some grand dream

I just need to see and feel the world

To truly realize that I exist.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

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