Poetry Schmoetry

A Song I Wrote for Myself on the Dismal Eve of my 31st Birthday. (Maybe I should think of another title...something shorter.)

Don't know where I thought I'd be,

or who, or what, if anybody,

but with three decades behind me,

it wasn't s'posed to be here.

Had in mind what I would do,

but opportunities were far and few.

I told myself I was just passing through,

and yet I'm still here.

So life goes on and on,

never asking if you're coming too.

There's a moment you realize it's gone;

your chance is behind you,

it's gone.

It hurts to know I bear the fault,

too scared to leap for fear I'd fall.

Now sinking slowly against this wall

also known as 'here.'

Who can know which road to choose.

Each choice a risk, another chance to lose.

You can't get hurt if you never move--

That's how I ended up here.

So life goes on and on,

never asking if you're coming too.

There's a moment you realize it's gone;

your chance is behind you,

it's gone.

But one day in the future near,

when I have set aside my fears,

I'll take the wheel and finally steer

somewhere away from here.

Take back my life and finally steer,

away from here.