I don’t remember when I derailed,
from the melancholy of life,
it seemed so, the life at that point.
Inciting the fun and frolic,
for joy repleted in the “moment”,
not thinking about future period,
“not a chess genius”, crying silly excuses.
In the smaller segments,
operated like a spectator,
never involved in the game (playing),
sitting on the sidelines, praying.
The inevitable fall raised the guilt,
and its constant being adaptable,
tripping down the ladder,
trying to climb back, but the failure
disheartened, rendered actions slow,
on the fast lane, with a bicycle,
still polluting my soul.
Bankrupt of my riches,
possible omission of success, on the mind,
foreclosed the chases,
but I realize,
the emptiness, fear, laziness, sloth,
as I write to you today,
trying to change tracks, mend ways,
still on bicycle,
moving slow may be, but forward,
not expecting change immediate, today, but days after, possibly tomorrow.