Second Chances

Do it again.
It still isn’t right.
I keep on trying with all of my might.

When can I rest?
When can I flee?
When can I worry about only me?

That’s not what I meant.
My phrase not quite right.
I sound selfish, I know;
For my soul to take flight.

Trapped in a cage
I’ve made solid with fear.
The light’s going out.
It gets darker each year.

I still have some hope
That my life I can change.
I know it sounds funny.
I know it sounds strange.

I’ve talked in this verse
about rest, flight and fear.
I’ve waxed philosophical for each passing year.

But, time is still left,
for a new day to dawn.
I’ll pull myself up.
I’ll stifle a yawn.

There’s still things to do.
There’s still places to see.
Why should I care if it’s only me?


About afabulous

Let's see where the words take us - shall we?
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