My own experience

Was yet to make it

As far as Coney

In New York City

So until the next time

Then maybe I can see the sign

Of Coney Island

Calls for pause

As we creep out of the

Cracks that we have

Buried and built for ourselves

I step out only to see

A burning sun that

Set’s me back in my tracks

So lift up the curtains

And retreat

Again

Back to where

It all began

A try

And a hope

To make the right call

At the right time

It comes with it’s challenges

And hopes

To know what

To do when

So I prepare for that moment

Everyday

I make mistakes

In many ways

Over and over

Yet in the midst of my

Mind collapse

I hope to grow

With every moment

I take in

Hope of a better

Tomorrow

An allowance

Of an occurrence

A tolerance of

An event

But what if

No more is wanted

And the whole thing is dead

Bubble

Bubbling

With activities

Hopes and dreams

All caught up in the

Intangible things

That the bubble will continue to grow

Engulfing all good and bad

Consuming the hopes

Of the world

Here comes the bubble

As we huddle

In it