Drudgery

In the attempt to attain perfection -- even perhaps a meager fraction of it -- you cauterize yourself with the smoldering ashes of wanton dreams never meant to come true. A rather dubious solution rears its not-so-ugly head up once in a while, taps you lightly on the shoulder and sends you traipsing along the remnants of a yellow brick road. Wistfully, you then find yourself looking up into the star-studded sky, wishing your problems away whilst the gleaming of a thousand miniature suns are still visible from your vantage point. Wishing upon a star is easy.
But not for the star.
Nobody wants to be blatantly presented with a handful of selfish hopes and dreams that aren't even his own and be expected to fulfill them with the snap of a finger.
Since the star was your last hope, you then realize that you have failed; and in order to hide from the shame of failure, you resort into coating your self-baked mud-pies with a thick icing of lame excuses that does nothing other than elevate the problem.
When you finally find the courage to look into the mirror, you can't help but stare at it with a sense of regret. You detest what you've now become. And what you have become is a weary dreamer, covered in sugar-coated mud and with nothing but clumps of stardust to hold on to...

To the readers: Forgive me. Today has not been an easy day, and I was being nagged with the need to write that down. My stream of consciousness is infested with dust and cobwebs, and this was one of the few ways I could rid myself of them.

To China (who I've just gotten off the phone with):

Snake the marble castle's card

Whose river streams like sweeter juice

Overflow

The taste of cherry

In the lips of gentle Spring

Dear little one, I shall bid you luck with deciphering the most-likely non-existent meaning that abides in this... er... poem... If you could call it that... Yes, it was the best I could come up with. Yes, I have lost my equally non-existent writing skills. And no...
Well... just no...