Recluse

Gaze with intent at the London skyline, sublime.

Hazed with the fervent aura of the denizens of my time.

Scurrying beneath the cascade of inummerable lights.

Hurrying to beat the rush hour and the encroachment of night.

Dusk is descending upon this menagerie of diversity.

Performing their daily rituals, withstanding monotony, adversity.

Cursory peek at the inhabitants they walk amongst in their trance.

Faceless suits, who if they cared to take more than a glance.

Would realise that this anonymous suit has a face.

The same one they skulk past each day, this very time, this very place.

Each gazing at the pavement beneath them as the capital passes them by.

Content and intent to get home to their lives.

If they stopped for a mere moment to notice the ecclecticity all around.

They would appreciate the cosmopolitanism this city abounds.

The array of lives, characters, stories a plenty.

But the passers by bear no significance, hollow shells, empty.

To all this I bear witness from my one bedroom home.

Through a picture sized window, in my kitchen alone.

I remain resigned to watching them from a distance, appalled.

For if I were to venture into their world I'd exchange pleasantries with them all.

Dreams

Awaiting the emergence of that worthwhile endeavour

A resurgence of that determination thought never to be felt again.

That pleasure, of harbouring ambition and drive

To pursue a successful path, to aspire and strive.

Latently present, never quite rising to the surface

What wonders life will bring me, I've yearned to unearth this

Clear dreams and aspiration experienced as a child

Dreams that possessed no boundries, be the next Dickens, perhaps Oscar Wilde.

Blissful naivety immersed in my imagination

"Be anything you wish to be" was my mantra, my incantation

Limitless aspirations as my mind wandered and soared

Amid the realms of prosperity, reaping countless rewards.

Dreams that fall by the wayside as you stumble through life

Bear witness to the eternal suffering and strife

That surrounds you and corrupts the innocence of childhood

An innocence dispelled with imminence, laid to rest on the pyre wood.

Become all too aware of the world's vulgarity

Begin to cast doubt as to whether these dreams can ever realise any clarity 

Occurrences beyond your control gradually dilute these dreams

As the fabric of wishes you wove as a child begins to tear at the seams.

Life appears to have hit a plateau, not moving but wading

The future you once envisaged now colourless, in the distance fading

Irrevocability you've lost the ability to aspire

With everyday that passes you begin to falter and tire.

Hoping to drift off into a slumber where these dreams are rekindled

Where that slightly torn fabric is now tightly spindled

But the realisation is that you always awake

These transparent dreams never become palpable, opaque.

But remain elusive, not conducive to the life that you lead

For the more that you dwell on them the less you take heed

Of the reality and hardships of the world in which we live

Of the necessity to laboriously work and to give.

Your all, your utmost to succeed and achieve

To take critique humbly, learn from mistakes and believe

Wake up and stop dreaming for the path before you lay steep

But you cannot begin to climb it whilst you remain languidly asleep.