I feel like I start over

every time I begin

Words are merely words

inside, paper-thin

I’m lost inside these pages

knowing not where I fit

Having trouble, no excitement

where once there was a glowing fire pit

Attempting to start another flame

after the core’s been extinguished

Takes a skill I’ve been lacking

Feeling lost and languished

Yet I sit with this mountain above me

sometimes it feels like it’s on top

I am reminded of a Hobbit

whose future he knew not

Yet he helped to slay a dragon

a nasty hoarder of treasure and gold

and I will help slay that beast

a system of exploitation and sadness untold

I look forward sometimes to the fight

but mostly toward the victory

knowing full well any fulfillment

will start in my own soul’s history

 

(I found this poem in my notes.  It was dated 3/17/2013.  This was the turning point in my thesis when I finally realized I was on the wrong path and I turned things around.  So glad I did, else I may not be sitting here preparing to present my thesis tomorrow morning, in a completely different direction.  How serendipitous that I ran across this poem tonight.)