/lit/ - Literature

I wrote a poem yesterday that is basically a throw-away I wrote real quick to get some shit off my chest.

I grew up with people that dreamt
Of finer things,
Of mansions, furs, and diamond rings,
With cliche dreams
That would say things like I wish
I could
I should
But leave
This place it seems impossible,
This space is a monster,
A constant dull,
A Pool with a waterfall that drools,
I’ve cooled myself before
And leaned upon selfless dreams
Of giving to my family,
At least it seems,
But the voice it says to me,
“You’ll never leave
And you’ll never be”