Me in Three
There's a basic sense of satisfaction.
With safety, like a fort, I'm surrounded.
With friends, there's a lively interaction.
In acts of love and joy I'm well-founded.
Yet I am weighed down with an inner fear.
Where from my superciliousness throngs?
Paths, as though with fog, are often unclear.
Why do I turn dumb when I oppose wrongs?
Happiness must flow like a distinct stream.
Existence, like the breeze, should flow freely.
Fortitude must glimmer like the sunbeam.
Each minute must be lived ideally.
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