Did you believe in me?

What kind of minor god hears from the t-ball coach
you are bound to be president

while the citizenship awards rain down throughout middle school
and disappointment visits in May when you're seventeen 

breaking dreams is a hyperbole
but somehow so many people had a similar nightmare

passing along their faith: You Will Be(come)
a destiny that weighed heavy enough to accept drowning

on the beach on the most beautiful day of the year
if not for another myth wafting in front of a nose

that had given up smelling
and yet another Icarus year

lead to yet another Daedalus tear
a cycle that didn't appear likely to break

for there was always another pair of eyes
looking for dreams to go up and up

in the guise of another, you know who I mean
sewing across this infinite seam

but when Daedalus went down
a more predictable road

I left behind [carus]
letting the sun be where it is

while I no longer eat belief.