Why is it that I always sing along to the same unfulfilling hymn?
Regret – the hefty bag I haul day by day;
Why is it that I record this burden on an index as if it were all okay?
Regret – the coins stored in my can, so filled to the brim.
Why is it that I have to take on countless never ending paths to find the right one?
Dreams – the subconscious force that sets me on track;
Why is it that I always burn bridges even when the storm isn’t done?
Dreams – something I shouldn’t let go of even when I’ve reached the final crack.
Why is it that I always feel like this is something I am not cut out for?
Satisfaction – the ball in court I should not pass;
Why is it that I look at opportunities through some tinted glass?
But at last, there goes satisfaction, finally awaiting by the golden door.
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