The Street


United States
38° 38' 27.1572" N, 75° 49' 48.5544" W

The street
I walked down the street
The wind whispered in my ear.
The only sound is the pounding of my feet.
I wish there was more to hear.
The wind blows in the towering trees,
But it seemed silent as night.
Suddenly I heard the buzz of bees,
Sneaking up like a cat in plain day light.
The sound is a marching band,
To the silence of the block.
I find myself on unfamiliar land but,
I walked down the street.
I realize there is no bee,
the sounds I hear are in my head.
No one is around to see me.
The sky is suddenly blood red.
I can no longer keep walking.
The universe begins to change.
I can hear people talking,
But no people are in range.
The grass calls my name,
The trees seem to beckon me.
I run to a yard but it is no longer the same.
The house in the yard bellows and I can’t be here so,
I run down the street.
I wake up in a sunny room.
I am glad to see it was only a dream,
But something dark still looms.
It is silly to worry but my mind streams
Seeing that all is normal outside.
Until I see the trees that call me.
I fear this will be a never ending ride.
I beg this isn’t an ongoing cycle, I plea.
But I end up,
Walking down the street again.

Guide that inspired this poem: 




The cycle of this story, the ending being almost the same as the beginning, is very haunting and it brings a sense that dreams of running often do, so congratulations on that ability, not many have it. Thank you for sharing this piece.




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