May I

Maybe this is just how things are suppose to be, and is simpler than I could ever imagine. Maybe this is how the road should feel since the beginning: kinda lonely, kinda crowded; always winding. Should I say something to quiet the voices in my head yelling desires and claiming the right of chasing dreams? I don't have the power. And gladly I don't have the courage. Maybe this is just how things are suppose to be.


The voices say I should dream. My heart thinks they're right.