I

A M

I sit, staring at doors. Opportunities unfold in front of me.

I dream. I contemplate. I imagine.

But all I can do is sit.

The doors float above me — unopened, unexplored.

When I look toward one, I see another man.

He is seated too, gazing outward.

I feel his longing. His quiet ambitions.

But he is caged inside his thoughts,

just as I am.

And somewhere between us, a whisper lingers:

“I am nowhere.”