The American Dream

By Aetre


I would look outside the window on the bus

That took me to and from my work in the city

Every day

Except weekends and holidays

And as I looked, I would see people

On the street

Walking and riding and driving

And each one had somewhere to go

A destination

I was going somewhere, too:

The place Id left that very morning:


I observed these people

And compared them to my own situation

Every day

And all of the people I saw

And observed through that window on the bus

Though different

Never changed day to day

The lost faces in the urban American mob

Never changed.

It comes to the point of boredom

Such that I need to get away from all of it

A vacation

A fun and relaxing vacation

Where Id not be world-weary, until it came to an abrupt


But routine never ends

And Id go back to work and home again

Every day

Then it happened one day

That I looked at those people of the city

And realized

I did not belong here

And neither did most of those people

Out there

And then I turned my head

To look at the people inside the bus

With me

And they were all busy

Talking, listening, waiting, reading

And riding

But some of the passengers

Were looking out the bus window nearest them

Silently thinking.

I only know one thing

About ambitions, goals, and dreams

And life:

Life is the pursuit

Of the ability to take oneself

Somewhere else.

Somewhere where the dreams

Of one person can be as true as the realities

Every day

And this bus will never take me there

But at least it will take me home

I shall begin my journey

As soon as I get home.