Flotsam Dreams

The broken pieces of who I am
paint the picture of a man who is lost at sea,
clinging to the slowly fading hope of finding the shore
and though my thoughts hold me beneath the surface of the water
my mind races with the possibilities of endless futures:

One where I'm king 

One where I'm free

One where I'm not choked down by the responsibilities of the life 
I've chosen to live. 

But I drift, 
like a piece of flotsam after a storm—carried on the tides, 
blown by the winds,
as my soul cries for peace.