Square peg squeezing into a round hole
unbeknownst
that hole is draining its soul
smoldering
leaving barren
that which was previously whole.
The wearing away of purpose
places
hefty demands
on that passion
being remanded, commandeered
held for ransom.
Lo and behold
those goals
bought, sold, bartered
while the realization
of working harder
couldn’t be farther,
likened to the
distance
of
Neptune to our Moon
crying out, calling attention to
its self-imposed tomb.
Shortcomings, loom large, doubts redouble
their efforts,
forging ahead,
obstinately cognizant of the echoes,
going unanswered
while
a
crisis of conscience.
Ensues, brews
as I
wield faith
as
my fuel and tool.
Incidental, providential, things that are essential.
Long days, short nights, combating elements that aren’t right.
Verily I say to
you
me
whoever
I see
or
is
within earshot.
Calling attention to my
resilience, stubbornness, recalcitrance
to
falter
to that which is
mandated to strengthen
rather than
being the…
Epilogue.
That drama (comma)
rounds my edges
refining, defining
and allowing
me…
That square peg
to
fit into that hole…
And.
My soul sighs
with
relief
claiming it…
My blessing.
Shun P. Writes... dot com 