Of All The Days

Listening to the words "Where [pause] where does it come from?"
It crashes on me like an ocean blue, heavy breeze.
There was a reason I drank this coffee,
and didn't go to bed, and let this day end unfulfilled  
only to promise on the new day that I'll do better.
In this writing, deception comes to me saying I've done enough,
but I haven't! I probably never have!
There is a voice that needs to scream out,
and hands that need to be balled into fists,
though I don't know what they're supposed to punch.
Ah, my hand hurts from this writing,
just like I always wanted;
after all, I've said too many times to write until it hurts,
but how many times have I really meant that?
I need to act, lest I learn the hard way
that you've only got one life;
everyday I must be one step closer to my own promise land.
It's like everyday I get a glimpse―a small glimpse―
of what waits for me, and now I realize
that it waits for me, not vise versa;
the light at the end doesn't come to you; you walk to it;
what ever truly comes to you without you moving an inch?
I got up today gleaming with the light of morning;
I don't know what I said, but I thought to myself
that this is going to be a good day;
with my hand on my heart, I tried to be strong,
but――wait no! Today wasn't worthless;
today wasn't enough either, but there was light;
there was beauty, and something to behold.
Again not worthless, not enough.
I daydreamed as always;
daydreams of the other side,
daydreams that never go beyond that mind of mine,
and into reality;
I know I shouldn't, but they fool me everytime
with their warmth;
I run, but they catch me,
and if I ever bothered to hide they'd find me for sure.
But whatever made me drink that coffee is a friend;
I can be saved yet; I need to let it in,
and when those daydreams come it will unmask them
for the waste of time and life it really is.
I need to move on; change must happen.
Oh so many changes to lift us up;
to put us back in the fight;
to put our hands on the mountain we can someday lift.
I've been afraid to be strong; is it all because of laziness,
or is there an element of something more?
The truth is I have so many reasons/people to be strong for,
a question I wish weren't here is that do I let them down when I don't?
Must go higher―higher? Was I ever high to begin with?
Yes I was, just not high enough.
I can't just sit back and let this world revolve without me in it,
Higher! Higher! Higher! Above and beyond!!
I dream of touching those stars one day;
I must remind myself to make sure those stars have true meaning in them.
Could this be the start or the end or just another wave
in the polluted sea of nothing?