Friday, July 22, 2011

Another, Because I Still Can't Sleep


Too many of what should be fewer,
Less than should be more,
There's nothing I imagine's worse
Than life that is a bore.
But what should happen more than less
To stave off this great fear?
Is the answer coming in a day,
A week, a month, a year?

I admit I'm growing tired of
Acknowledging the truth
That aspects of my life would aggravate
The me of youth.
I'm waiting for the key, to know
How too many reduce.
Before I live as I had liked
I have to find the root.

The thinking less of what is more
Than what I'd like to see
Must, in the end, result in progress
Right? Eventually?
For how can one be sure that steps
Toward won't find regret?
I'll sit and wait to think it out
To be sure to not misstep.

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