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 I’d left that very morning:
Home
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 I’d not be world-weary, until it
came to an abrupt
End
But routine never ends
And I’d 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.