Confuddlement

It's so late,
and you're sitting here with ideas
swimming in your head
wondering what and where and how
your future will unfold
as though its a Persian carpet
uncurling from a magic lamp,
completely enveloping you in uncertain fog
while your head is bursting to the seams
from the wrong fit of those dreams
that were placed upon your shoulders by someone
who did not know how much weight you had to bear.


~this is just part of a poem. I think I might keep on working on it and make it into a spoken word and maybe make it my first conscience poem to perform one day......