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My father asked me once
If I was happy with my life.
I said –
“Maybe – a little bit.
I have my books to read and
My desire to write.”
I said –
“Sometimes I wish I was stronger
And that I had a little more ambition.”
Then I’d go into the world and conquer
And get paid to do what compels my mission –
In this Heart.
Words beat in this body of mine
I find myself discovered
In each and every line.
For all the things that fail to
Leave my lips
I find clarity
Speaking my soul with ink.
I won’t lie –
Sometimes I wonder
If I will live this life like this
I know it’s bound to get harder
But am I brave enough
To step out of the shelter
My comfort zone
The safety of my job?
Sickness never sleeps and
Therefore they’ll never let me go?
If I got that pink slip in the mail
Would I be broken or relieved
That I would be free now to live my dreams?
“Are you happy in this life?”
I said –
“There’s so much more that I want.
Things that are outside of me
Things that may very well have never
Been in God’s design
For me -”
Am I happy in this life?
Maybe –
A little bit.
Not quite…