I rest my mind along the side of my brain, because I’m too tired to think, I’m extremely drained. I need to settle down and stay in my lane. But truth is my thoughts are hidden beneath an unrealized pain. This repeated routine hurts me, day in and day out this routine life is causing a drought. A drought of imagination a drought of non existent fantasies that have collected doubt. I pretend to be content while deep down inside, I need to vent. Praise the people that walk before me with dreams over here and goals in the atmosphere. Can you lend me a few, I doubt I’d know what to do. But maybe I can rest my brain and hope I find that imagination for life once again.