All around me atoms collide
to form my reality but can I decide
to mold this moment with the power of thought
or is that wishful thinking when I’m feeling distraught?
so many theories that I’ve been taught.
I swear, I can tell ya, at times it’s a snap
the universe yields with the slightest soft tap
but there are these moments, events so unyielding
they form into patterns, like weapons they’re wielding
my baggage and secrets to slash at the masks
that hide my true self. In case anyone asks,
I’m doing great, perfectly fine.
But on the off chance that’s a big fat lie
I know my struggles are really my signs
that spark the urge for me to emerge
and face my bare self, the part I’d rather deny.
Often I lose myself mired deep in denial
I don’t even know it until I step in a pile
of steaming hot suffering, in the form of some trial
that shows me I’ve moved barely a mile
But hey it’s progress and I do it in style
And in those rare moments when I can actually see
that my set backs are designed to help me break free
I look up toward the moon and crack the hint of a smile
well, sometimes, it’s so clear–every once in a while.
