Field of the Lost (Where I Belong)

There’s a field west of here
I pass it every day on my way to work.
It’s muddy, mossy and covered in crawling insects.
I see abandoned kids playing with broken toys,
a shaggy dog patiently sitting in the same spot day in and day out
waiting for his master to pick him up.
I see two cats,
huddling up for warmth and shelter against the shallow breeze.
I see a forgotten legend,
trying to figure out why the history books left him behind.
There’s an army of soldiers anticipating extraction that will never arrive.
There’s a homeless man pushing a trolley filled with cans which he has collected over the years
but never found a machine to put them in.
I see a prophecy gone unfulfilled,
an empty storage
and a pyramid the Egyptians are trying  to rebuild.

No grass has ever seen the light of day
as the sun never shines here.
It hasn’t lit up the area for twenty years.

It’s a miserable place full of empty promises and leftover conversations,
floating around in search of someone to belong to,
but the rope they are tied to is holding them down.

This is the field I see every day on my way to work.
A purgatory for dying dreams and dried out ambitions.
It’s the field of the lost
and that’s where I belong.