here I sit, the daily grind
all my dreams fall behind
begin each day
heave ho lets go
pieces and plans
in mind in hand
cracked, torn, slashed
better not to try
one day, far away
sitting satisfied, content
begin each day
where did the time go?
This attempt at poetry was inspired by Sylvia's quote. My miserable attitude sabotages me at every turn; I rarely work up the courage to write, sing, draw, or do anything that I could fail at. Im not looking for praise... just place to be courageous and allow myself the freedom to fail.
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