Dominique Davis Poet Rhyme

A Dream

9 to 5 at a dead-end job, staying on someone else’s couch.
Paycheck to paycheck, house to house.
This is how I survive, this is how I live my life. 

My life has always been a cycle of revolving doors,
feeling torn between the life
I want and the life I was born. 

I want a job, I adore that doesn’t feel like a chore. 
I want a place I can call and say it’s my home.
Making something of myself, changing the world.

But it’s a pipe dream for me, it’s The American Dream. 
I fantasized about it until I realized it could never be mine.
In-between me and that dream is a wall installed to keep us locked outside.

This giant metal wall spikes at the top so we can’t crawl.
It casts a dark shadow, might as well have guards with ammo. 
It used to be just an idea, no one thought could ever be real.

Now it stands 50 feet in the air and all we can do is stare.
It was born to life with hate, birthed by a coward who was given way too much power.

The life I wanted, gone in just a moment.
The American Dream, no longer for me. 
It was a nice dream and now that’s all it could ever be

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