A Letter to Myself

You thought you knew better:

An anxious farm-kid, concealing

Your morose thoughts with

Tepid extroversion. That fell

Threw in a hurry, as you leaped

Beyond the pale of expectation

That dripped before you.

Soon, influence upon influence

Led to alcohol’s influence. Except

It wasn’t their fault. It was yours.

Of all the choices to be made,

Chasing through the Glen

Proved to be detrimental. It

Became surreal. You truly were

A product of millennial circumstance:

*I deserve more than this* you thought.

But what is more?

More contentment?

More excitement?

More of the same?

Work would be needed.

Self improvement of vital essence.

Fear would hold you back,

From all you wished to do.

Reviews

[Yari Garcia]

There's so much wisdom in this poem. It also flows well and has a nice rhythm. Well done.

Yari