Ambition is a slab of gold

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

What if the slab just turns to lead?

Submitted: October 01, 2017

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Submitted: October 01, 2017



Ambition sits on me, the mirror's got a grudge.
A slab of gold on my chest, just too heavy to budge.
I can't find the right instrument to force, if nothing else, a nudge.
Would it crush me if I lifted it?
Are there second chances?

If I could actually lift this slab,
I go cash out and pawn it.
If I could manage to lift this slab,
I'd be left with fewer limits.
Although the effort is a drag,
even the mirror tells me I can't do it.
I wonder if someone has a hammer,
They could smash right through it.
But I might not get through it.

But I'm not sure if it's a risk I'm willing to take,
But it's a risk I should take for my own sake,
Maybe even if someone helped it'd do no good for them,
Maybe if broken, this slab becomes lead.
Or is the lead the disease in my head?
Lead like in the soldiers dead?
Dead like the void well-fed.
But when all is done,
When all is said,
The slab yet holds me down,
And I'm pinned to my bed.

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