who else am I
that I do not spend every waking hour of every day here
with my words and the melodies they play?

what sought of tuneless misery am I embracing
shifting meaningless from one foot to another
paying and displaying such a cursory respect
to my life
to being
A live.

exhibiting such a lack of discipline
waiting for who to say
it can begin?

as if I am only allowed to be
more than I currently am
when some-one other or something other
tells me
permits me

I have no chains
other than a shrinking mind
fearing rebuff
I seek decline.

How easily could I step and shake
this flimsy shackle of self doubt

I will try harder

I will succeed

that I know is all it takes
and thus the future
the me inside
is freed.