The map on the wall.

Forming roads in my mind from the cracks in the wall.

Every road intricately wrought through the peeled crack paint and old stains and marks.

Each time I sit and stare; a new road is journeyed in my mind.

I am daily enraptured by imagined adventure.

And from that dull old desk and abused wall, Time slips past me.

Each day I sit

Each day I dream.

before I realize it the lines between day and dream are completely blurred.

And even though all I need do is get up

I fail to achieve the one thing I pine for most.

Fail to drive myself to action.

 though that desire is well within my grasp.

For taking the first step is how all adventures begin

And in another ordinary day the longing consumes me.

I could not measure its potency.

And I absorb nothing else other than the old wall.

When finally the wall is meager.

My desk lifeless.

My reverie is insufficient.

I let it take me away.

No plan, I have.

No provision either,

Only a step.

Only an adventure imagined,

And a map on the wall.