She sits alone at the window pane,
Too far along in travels begun.
Till sun sets low where it did rise,
And mist replaces this mornings rain.
Where sighs echo the day is done,
And circles enclose the tired eyes.
One cup of coffee,
Two sets of keys,
Three armloads of books,
Four seats that are empty,
Five minute memories,
And six awkward moments, six awkward looks.
And yet you've attained the 'Dream',
As much as we can gather,
For exchanging your soul for comfortability,
Trading community for a silent scream.
When it is joy that you would rather,
More so than 'firm' stability.
The dream is not yet realized,
As we pitter on the road.
Your load it never empties,
Nor the things that can be idolized.
Keep being and seing, we can only hope,
Our work is not in vain, these old eyes will see.
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