My ambition is the summer sun

and the luck of the leprechauns.

My ambition is a gothic house

full of books.

One,

opens a door.

My ambition is a beautiful woman

with a laugh, like silver and gold.

My ambition

is to do

what I never thought I could do

Mountains, Memories, and Miracles

that make me a man.

My ambition

is to achieve my destiny.

Many, don’t believe they have one.

My ambition is to find the magic in music

the color of spring

the reality

right beneath the surface

of our grim grey monochrome existence.

My ambition is to find the land of the fairies

and not the one on capitol hill.

There are worlds we don’t know about

and

I want to discover them.

My ambition is to transform into an artist

from that slow spongy caterpillar

that eats leaves, gets fat, and goes into his cocoon.

My ambition is to break out

and fly.

When there was nothing in my life, but flowers and time and sun

I felt warm, because

each new day held my ambition

like morning dew

on lucky leaves

and I watched the sun, descending slowly into the sky

through the deep green woods.

I wouldn’t trade that time

for city buildings

meetings, suits, or clocks.

Those kinds of things

make me appreciate my ambition:

a quiet room

where I can type

and listen

to the street sounds, outside

to the people

to the world, full of ambition

and so am I,

but

I just hope

I make it home

before midnight.

4 thoughts on “Cinderella Man

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