Existential Angst

When was the moment I stopped believing in endless possibilities? What was I doing and who was I talking to? How was I dressed and were my teeth brushed? Was I driving through a blur of weeping while a song pounded tears? Did I miss my chance at the possibilities? The ones that seemed endless. I'm living the dreams of others. My dreams...buried beneath my sunflowers under gravel and I can't find my shovel because I never put my tools away. I wouldn't even if I had a tool shed. I never put the vacuum away either but that's easier to find. Sometimes I shove it into the corner of the living room as opposed to the middle.