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We're not the same,
move your hand from my shoulder.
I'm sorry to be the one to say it-
This isn't going anywhere.
I dream of big cities and big beaches,
of ice cream on hot summer nights,
of summer rains and big black cars.
You dream of mountains,
of freedom you could never reach.
You dream of big trees in forests
and a little house by the river.
We're not the same,
move your hand from my shoulder,
and the next time you ask me
where I wanted to go;
just don't sigh out of disappointment
for i don't hang out
in the wilderness you long for.
I'm sorry I like rooftops and listening to rock,
while admiring the bumps on the moon
I'm sorry I don't chase the sun and stray from it.
We're not the same
but I like you quite a bit
and I can't let go just like that.
So I've tried
I've tried to replace big buildings with trees,
beaches with mountains,
and the moon with the sun.
I've tried changing my dreams;
but deep inside, i will always
always have a tiny dream
of smoking cigarettes in a bar
is it worth, really
changing who we are-
So we could dream the same
and live a half life?
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Submitted by confession on February 08, 2021

1:08 min read
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Mila

A little poem i wrote while thinking about how our problems compare to other people's issues. more…

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    "Leave" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 16 Oct. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/61686/leave>.

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