With the night still,
The TV—news blaring from the screen
Trying to concentrate on an important something,
But my mind wanders and my heart dreams…
I. I grew up in the suburbs
Normal, calm, and yet diverse,
Rich in culture and ethnicity:
Bollywood colors and Mexican TV.
But I want something more—
The calmness of a heart left be
The freedom to do as I please
The knowledge that has power to appease
The sanctity so that I can breathe.
II. I'd stare out the window
And make a vow:
To fix my broken wings of wax and I'll
Fly again, towards the sun.
I'd gaze at the imperfect ceiling,
Innocently white but still a barrier
Another vow to nothingness:
Work myself out of a cage.
III. Vows can be broken.
IV. Dreaming of blue oceans,
And of ships sailing deeper into—
The setting sun.
Brilliant strokes, red, orange, yellow:
(in my humble dreams)
Life has begun.