One self-absorbed? One aching to be free?
One well aware of what’s been said and done?
Or one just interested in having fun?
So many questions race throughout my head.
I wish that I could just lie down and rest,
And contemplate less pressing things at hand—
Alas, for me, things stand the way they stand.
Perhaps it’s just my lot to be condemned
To tortured thoughts that just can’t be hemmed in.
I wish I didn’t care so much about
The specters taunting my hopes, dreams, and doubts.