This poem had its birth back in 2013. I looked back at it recently and messed around with the cadence and tone. We all deal with fear and whether we should stick things out or not- that razor's edge. Do we cut or not? I feel quite a bit more comfortable today with the line "But why worry" than I did when I first penned it. Sometimes the most painful times are the most meaningful times.
But Why Worry
I think I don’t do enough,
I think I get too engrossed.
I think I’m missing the boat,
I think I’m pushing too hard.
The tasks, the rules- is it necessity?
Are they worthy links or weighted chains?
Sometimes it sounds so damn alluring
To jump and let it all fly away.
What’s the right tenacious grab-
How much to cling forever to?
I’m teetering on a razor’s edge.
But why worry?