For What It's Worth

For what it’s worth,
Is it worth anything at all?
To try and try and try again
Only to end where I begin,

So desperately hoping,
My future shines bright,
But still believing that it grows dimmer
With each passing day.

This feeling of hopelessness consumes
Like a snake closing in on its prey.
So vulnerable, and yet so knowing
That life will soon come to an end.

I yearn to be like those
Who hold their life in the palm of their hand
And wear their heart on their sleeve.
What it would feel like to let go
And breathe in carelessness like the crisp morning air.

Would it pay to live such a life?
Forgetting my aspirations
And letting them unravel;
An itchy sweater that is
No longer a bother.

Leaving behind everything that contains me
Running, running, running…
Reaching nothing better
Than what there was to run from.

If only I could see what lies ahead
And decide accordingly.
But no one is the prophet of their own future
And I cannot know
If I am stepping closer to success, or drifting away.

Every passing day screams for change-
Or is it me?
Wanting a life made easy
So I can smile and mean it;
Cry tears of joy rather than sorrow.

Not everyone can live like you, Lucinda Matlock,
Who enjoys life’s never ending struggles
And countless hours of toil
That ache the body and wither the soul.

Years from now, will I be
The accomplished woman or the sickly widow
Whose one misconception lead to
Her life filled with pain?

While one says that today’s hard work
Becomes tomorrow’s reward,
I sit in the corner
And doubt myself and what has yet to occur.

At times I wonder if I am only
A petulant child, too callow to understand
Such a complicated world.

Judgment is the ailment
Causing me to cower
Behind my mother’s back,
Keeping my eyes shut tight.

It seems as if I can never choose
A path that pleases all.
There will always be a villain around every corner
Waiting, almost patiently, to inveigh
Upon all that brings happiness.

Are such bountiful dreams even worth the time?
To strive for excellence
And receive nothing more than the gift of disgrace,
Like inheriting the legacy instead of the dollar.

Maybe being forgotten is a blessing
To those who are remembered
As unworthy scum
Settled at the lake’s bottom,
Only to take up precious space.

Is it true
Success is counted sweetest
To those who cannot reach it?
And the victory song playing
Means more to those defeated?

I hear my mind speaking;
Urging me to push on
Through another day, month, year.
Telling me to not indulge
In freedom’s sweet smell.

And then my heart infringes
Upon the thoughts that keep me grounded.
Wanting me to let my soul soar,
Free as the bat that owns the darkness of night.

I long for a clean, well-lighted place
To remember the past,
Cherish the present,
Ponder the future

So that maybe, just maybe,
I can ascertain these days of work
Satisfy not only one moment,
But a lifetime.

Not everyone is given the hope
Of a second chance.
The possibility of being great like Levi
In another life is seldom given
To those with lost faith.

But I suppose something
Is better than nothing,
And second chances are not given
Without a first attempt.

Perhaps life is a stringent journey
That leads to bittersweet victory.
And lesson learned today
Can only help tomorrow.

I suppose dreams are the seeds
That one plants to achieve
And courage is the water
That empowers them to grow
Into a reality.

Maybe all it takes
Is a little vision
To wave my worries goodbye
All the rest is fortitude
That helps one through the times.

Copyright Julia Naftulin 2009