8 Ball

Much of my life I’ve lived behind the eight ball. More than a few steps behind the rest. Isolation surrounds my heart like a cloud. I feel like a prompt for Benaim’s sweet potato, Every few steps I take forward, Feels like a giant leap backwards. I’m trying to get my life going, But it feels like my path leads nowhere. There are so many things I want, However, it feels not meant to be. Like daily routines I ask and ponder, About my place in life then wonder. Will I reach my goals in time, I feel I’m living so far behind. The ticking clock never halts, However, my time on earth is on call. I’m trying to get in front of the ball, But if I go too fast, I’m afraid I’ll fall. I’ve been boxing fear since day one, And to this point it has assuredly won.