I just feel like I’m losing,
Losing that hard fought game,
That ‘ere I thought I was winning.
That gushing speed of change
Quicksilver and bursting
With life and energy, that I can’t,
No matter how hard I try,
Seem to harness.
All that I had, the talents I treasured,
Are smoke, and ash, and dust.
Forgotten foresight brings not them back
To my waiting embrace
That will wait
‘Till the midnight,
But not chase.
And worse still, the new plain, that I
Had thought to consummate
Seems beyond my reach!
A closed door on whose threshold I stand
And weep at the absence of the key
I feel I should have
But that I cannot for the life of me locate.
And each knock is louder,
And each blow is harder,
And my fingers
That claw desperately at the rough surface
Are weary and farther
And farther from the likelihood of success.
So sat on this silent, lonely porch,
Where it seems I must reside,
I grasp at the tails of the 2 sides of potential:
One running, laughing down the gravel path,
And the other
On the other side of the door
With one eyebrow raised.