Lost in the water
Of wanting to do well
Why bother trying
When surely I’ll flail

Determined to decide
My next step, my next “thing”
Wanting to commit
But it’s more likely a fling

Caught up in the air
Floundering in space
In three years I’ll be thirty
Life is like a race

Is it too late for me?
Has my time been and gone?
Will my wishes be forgotten?
I can’t help but hope I’m wrong

Lately I have been too caught up in how my writing is received rather than enjoying the process of writing.
With this in mind I will be more free in the future and press that publish button.

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