I’m living someone else's dream, heaven knows it isn’t mine
I’m working someone else’s job, at the cost of all my time
I’m dancing to someone else’s music, the steps feel all so wrong
I’m singing off someone else’s sheet, I’m sure it’s their favorite song
I’m locked in someone else’s prison, they’ve thrown away the key
I’m wearing someone else’s expression, Lord knows it isn’t me
I’m driving down the wrong road, I think you know the one
There’s a light in my rear-view mirror, it’s the rising of the sun
I’m going the wrong way on a one way street, it’s called lonely highway
The exit to all my dreams has passed, much earlier in the day
I’m looking for a place to turn, where again I face the light
Shed this mask…throw wide my arms, and kiss goodbye the night
If a crossroads appears while on your trip, to your heart you must be true
Take the road less traveled with all you’ve got…at last you’ll really find you
David Kettler
This poem came out of a very gut-wrenching experience that I will never forget. It was my first day going to work at MK Battery in Anaheim. When I owned my own MK business, I often would take the trip out to Blythe and Quartzite Arizona myself and I loved it. I would leave very early in the morning with a truck load of batteries and the sun would rise across the desert in a way that always took my breath away. It always seemed analogous of my life in the great power and brilliance dawning into a seemingly endless list of possibilities. This particular morning, all of that was behind me. As I was stuck in traffic on the 91 freeway westbound, the looks in the faces of my co-commuters was one of blank abandonment. I realized that now I was helping someone else with their dreams at the cost of abandoning my own. As I was sitting there, the sunrise exploded in my rear view mirror and the words of this poem came rushing out. I remember grabbing some kind of scratch paper and a pen and I started writing them down on my center console right there in traffic. Tears were running down my face and I have no idea what the people around me thought…if they even noticed at all. The job actually turned out to be a good job. Like all other jobs, I very much so enjoyed parts of it while tolerating other parts of it. It was just that moment that was so powerful with emotion.
I’m working someone else’s job, at the cost of all my time
I’m dancing to someone else’s music, the steps feel all so wrong
I’m singing off someone else’s sheet, I’m sure it’s their favorite song
I’m locked in someone else’s prison, they’ve thrown away the key
I’m wearing someone else’s expression, Lord knows it isn’t me
I’m driving down the wrong road, I think you know the one
There’s a light in my rear-view mirror, it’s the rising of the sun
I’m going the wrong way on a one way street, it’s called lonely highway
The exit to all my dreams has passed, much earlier in the day
I’m looking for a place to turn, where again I face the light
Shed this mask…throw wide my arms, and kiss goodbye the night
If a crossroads appears while on your trip, to your heart you must be true
Take the road less traveled with all you’ve got…at last you’ll really find you
David Kettler
This poem came out of a very gut-wrenching experience that I will never forget. It was my first day going to work at MK Battery in Anaheim. When I owned my own MK business, I often would take the trip out to Blythe and Quartzite Arizona myself and I loved it. I would leave very early in the morning with a truck load of batteries and the sun would rise across the desert in a way that always took my breath away. It always seemed analogous of my life in the great power and brilliance dawning into a seemingly endless list of possibilities. This particular morning, all of that was behind me. As I was stuck in traffic on the 91 freeway westbound, the looks in the faces of my co-commuters was one of blank abandonment. I realized that now I was helping someone else with their dreams at the cost of abandoning my own. As I was sitting there, the sunrise exploded in my rear view mirror and the words of this poem came rushing out. I remember grabbing some kind of scratch paper and a pen and I started writing them down on my center console right there in traffic. Tears were running down my face and I have no idea what the people around me thought…if they even noticed at all. The job actually turned out to be a good job. Like all other jobs, I very much so enjoyed parts of it while tolerating other parts of it. It was just that moment that was so powerful with emotion.