Still Water

I sit alone staring at the pond
wondering what it's like to be happy.
Tomorrow never seems to come
while days drift so fast and blurry.

This life's but a stagnant water.
At times it waves but never flows.
Try as i may to think it over,
the water seems to be saying that it shows.

Yes, how rejoicing it is to see a stream
running freely through it's passage,
but nothing draws me to follow my dreams
yet, still envious for never here a single drainage.

So, what's there for me to look forward to
when all I see is obscurity?
Am I just too blind to see the solution?
or am i already possessed by a mortal agony?