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A very short reflection on my state over the past few weeks.

When did I cease to hunger?

When did ambition give way

To lassitude and "good enough"?

The me that I was 

Would be disgusted 

By the lack of forward momentum

I show now.

Is it such a bad thing

That I am now content?

Is it such a sin

That I feel happy?

Rather than constantly struggle,

Should I find happiness where I am?

Or should I scrap, fight to regain

That fire, that hunger which once I had?

This I ponder as I try

Almost in vain

To stoke the fires of creativity 

Beneath my feet.

I can only hope this will be

Enough to prevent complacency.