I don’t have a dream

I don’t have a dream.

I don’t wish to one day travel the world.

I don’t want to climb the tallest mountain or sail the widest ocean.

I don’t want to run faster, jump higher, fight harder than anyone else alive.

I don’t want to be part of your world, to be king, to be in a room where it happens or somewhere over the rainbow.

I don’t while away the daylight hours gazing out of the window in search of a better tomorrow, where the grass is greener and the sun shines brighter.

I don’t want the next big thing, the cool new gadget or the latest fashion trend.

I don’t keep on moving, get up on it like this, dance the night away or wiggle wiggle.

I don’t want to push things forward, make the world a better place, save the planet or protect our species.

I don't just do it, think different, belong anywhere or have a break because I'm worth it.

I don’t stand tall, my face tilted towards the sun, hands on my hips, cape flowing in the breeze as the music swells around me and the crowd swoons, staring up at the hero in their midst.

I don’t feel the hand of history on my shoulder.

I don’t want to leave my mark on this godforsaken world.

I don’t get up in the morning, rudely awakened by a dustman, repeat my morning affirmations and face the day head on, ready to confront any obstacle that dares to stand in my way.

I don’t need statues or plaques or tributes or honours or memorials.

I don’t want likes or faves or retweets or subs or follows.

I don’t think that I can do anything if I just put my mind to it.

I don’t want to make a change.

I don’t have a dream.

I have enough.

I have you.