The err of it
Begins with the fact
That I feel too much
So much that a fear creeps up
Snuggles up against the wall
Inside my heart
And pulls it with a rope
Tied against a nail
Etched innit
The fear
Of feeling so much of it all
And all that at once
And that too
Too soon
Brings a bit of both
Merry and melancholia
And the uncertainty,
Of when, why
And how,
Makes it all the more delightful
For even you don’t know
Which way,
Your fate
Is going to turn
All you can do
Is be optimistic
So much so, that
Even if it turns upside down,
You don’t end up
Drowning in that well
Which you almost,
Almost dig for yourself
That’s the only thing
I’ll tell myself today..
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