My Place

I wish, I didn’t have to wish so often,
For the simple pleasures of life,
That most people never miss,
For all the sanguinity,
There are moments in time,
When the very vastness of existence,
Belches and burns,
Oh, so many regrets,
Churning in the dark pit of this heart,
When will I learn,
There are no great escapes,
From the prison of this birth,
In the many seasons, unbidden,
A tear will roll out,
To show me my place,
Can I ever really crawl out that far?
Or a silent something,
Will always be waiting, watching,
To laugh at the choices I made,
If they really ever were,
Now, I think differently,
I ask,
Why wishes have to be spelt?