and a little like me

it’s a little bit inhibiting, I guess.
I imagine it was for those before, too.
those who built these institutions, full of hope.
the moments spent transfixed inwards, doubtful.
the questions that lingered about goals, neverending.

and what were those goals?
did they challenge the structures that were the walls?
did they fold in their cards that were handed out with the songbook?
did they melt their candles down to wicks end just to finish their manifestos?
or was it a random assessment of negativity and hopelessness?

doubtful. doubtful.

just think; the trees!
planted throughout the streets and in courtyards
fruitful occurrences of green to supplant the dreary
and inspiring climbing organic ladders to the stars
where children perched and adults conscientized.

stonecutters taking great care to make boulders into cobblestones
to be lain as our pathways
carving up the hills with that great idolizing of the potential beneath
and future generations’ exploitation of those discoveries
the basics of infrastructure.

those community developers, the nerve.
gossiping over each other’s misdeeds as they built, to think.
the educators who marveled at basic advancement, the rewards.
philosophizing over each other’s attentive pupils, the competition.
it’s a little bit inhibiting, to think they were a little like me.