A lonely infant, neglected and frail,
He took his first steps near the downtown rail.
His mother, pale and sick in health,
She smiled her last breath before she fell.
But the words on her lips had never felt so sweet,
For she said, “I hope my son fulfills his dreams.”

A saddened child in a house of four
Laughs with the aliens he lives to bore.
At dinner, he always glances at a picture in a locket,
Before he quickly slides it into his pocket.
The aliens clap at the child’s scholastic success,
But ignore the fulfillment he really wishes to access.

A strong young man, fresh out of passing the bar,
Plans his escape to somewhere far.
He finds a job in a familiar place,
Near the downtown rail where he was found as a waif.
His ambitions were restricted, but now they are free
To be lived and fulfilled in this poor misery.

Now an old man slowly walks about,
Not caring where he’s going ‘round.
The speeding car zooms past his life,
And leaves no room to mourn or cry.
He’s taken in the space between times,
And in his death, he takes a while
To ask the same question for the umpteenth time.
“Have I fulfilled my mother’s d—?”