There are things I don't understand

About the world beyond these roaring waters.

Is there a world so free from prejudice,

From lost dreams, from failures?

There was a time like this, but I cease to believe in it.

Since the day I was born I never understood

My purpose.

My only purpose was to live in a world

Then to die before nightfall.

irty years of physical damnation, mental

Setbacks and everlasting inferiority was the only backpack

I wore to school.

My classmates' dreams were vast, wide, sure to come true.

Mine fell to the wayside as soon as I received that d minus in school.

Seventeen years I spent drawing my dreams on the pavement.

Seventeen years of chalk washed away in the April rains.

Orange and yellow meshed with greens and blues.

Saturn lost its rings as Jupiter slithered into the gutter.

My brother grew with me, two years younger,

Two times stronger, two times smarter.

I saw my father pat his other son on the head when he became two inches taller.

The marker from my thumb made a stain on my pants.

My name, no longer on the steel wall corner.

I planned to erase myself from the world.

Eight years I spend cleaning toilets, cleaning windows

For other people's dreams.

Eight years I spend scrubbing my life away.

After eight years I find myself in the one place I want to be.

The place of my childhood dreams.

My eyes follow the rockets, up into the sky.

I arrive at my destination.

I'm handed a rag and window cleaner.

I'm on the wrong side of the glass.

My dreams are on the other side.

Just between the streaks.

Desperate, thirsty, I work my way over.

Trespassing, breaking laws, I begin to erase myself.

My name is no longer Vincent Freeman.

It is Jerome Morrow.

I am no longer five feet and eight inches.

I'm exactly six feet and one inch.

I'm no longer right handed.

My name is Jerome Morrow.

I've erased myself from the world.

My physical abilities exceed my brother's.

My intelligence is envied by others.

My time comes to step out of the world,

Beyond the roaring waters.

There's really something out there.

I step into the timed shuttle, my hands behind my back.

No one stops me at the entrance to the shuttle as I walk inside.

I channel down the narrow tunnel, preparing for my departure.

I have only two more years to live.

Two years to finally pass by the rings of Saturn.