Choices

Tangible Clues

Hands Image.png

I look to my past for tangible clues 

About what the hell I’m supposed to do

To shift the winds of my imminent future

To attain some purpose, a jewel to search for.

I admit my life has a cadence, a rhythm

And when put in perspective it’s one I can live with

But I do fear the day I turn ‘round to see

Ambitions unattained, flat out glaring at me.

Will I feign ambivalence, my fear winning out?

Or thirst for moisture in this creative drought?

I contemplate, I write and hope it’s enough

To compensate for hours spent working for stuff

I don’t really need which clutters my mind

Those 35 hours spent wasting my time.

With less life to go, each hour’s a gift

It’s no longer an option, taking anyone’s shit.

I’ve never been good at listening to rules 

That serve only those so clearly the fools 

Padding their pockets with the sweat of the masses

Hoping they’ll change if enough time passes

Looking behind them at the lies they have told

Too late for amends their karma is cold

For 35 hours I trudge dutifully on

Years gone by, sharp crags to balance on

Inclined to jump into the mysterious darkness 

Hope to be freed from this confining harness. 

Reality is, we never know 

What release from the ties of others bestows

I am no longer in a position to wait

So Goddesses bring it on, serve me my fate.