I found this old poem I wrote and decided to share:
Will it be?
I never act
I always feel this sad contract
I've pledged my eyes, my ears, my lips
to the promise of prosperity.
"So you're never blue"
is what they say
but the money's all gone down the drain.
I'm left here with the memory;
I never acted actually
What is the point?
We all implore.
It seems as though they just ignore,
So what is a year I ask myself.
Are you convinced,
or do you doubt?
All that you need is conviction
To see you through this decision.
Perhaps a map to guide you
They said there was nothing you couldn't do.
What is a year?