With the nose to the grindstone I’ll get much more done
Than I can with an attitude simply at ease
In my day to day living. There is no demand
For the work that I do. Now I do understand
There is no one else on earth I’d dare to appease
Lest I incur dependency in the long run.
I’ll rely on my damned self to not to get bored
With my verse and my station. This life has evolved
Simply through my own choices for better or worse.
I must find myself worthy rather than perverse
About life lived in private. I’m ever absolved
Of original shame that I cannot afford.
Living writes like a puzzle. With no special skill
Does the player succeed at its solving in style
For the sake of existence. No more does one ask
But to continue being. I’m up to the task
Of defining my product and purpose to smile.
I still have much to learn about fate and free will.
Yet determined to reach goals at my advanced age
I appear somewhat foolish if noticed at all.
Is the circumstance sacred to some small degree?
The immenseness I long for, eventually,
I will see in its glory. For now I am small
And consumed with existence and earning a wage.