How close, how far?

I stand near where I buried my dreams last,
the vast space overlooking the hill
and a long street that could have been a high street
there's something inspiring about the state of poverty

it moves with you regardless of where you find your footing
in the world above and beyond you
close or far to the point of origion
everyone has a root, essentially

but this state of poverty never leaves you
the runs in you are bigger than ladling with dirt your hands
your land has been sown and replanted
over the years yet still you cannot cover yourself from the sun

I stand near where I buried my dream last,
a cotton candy seller walks past
hauling pink-puffed promises in plastic bags
I lift a prayer to present myself into the chaos

please preserve my dreams intact 
beneath realities rained by rubble 
let me be, vast and rounded 
like the eternal sea in me.