Last Resort

A plethora of predicaments race though my mind at best.

which one can I fathom to ponder about next?

Shall I even think of acting upond what my mind stirs about,

or cry my soul asleep by this never-ending drought?

what will my career be?

The words "last resort" come screaming at me with no one to yell halt.

The quick years will pass; then they will hit me and it's my own fault.

All of my solutions come bearing a bag of infinte errrors.

At what point in time does this maze come to a close?

 On the inside I am slowly weeping, but on the outside I pose.

Look around the room and it does not express myself

Question creeps in my eyes at the princess sign of the self.

I am feeling confusion; don't worry , not despire

All I really want in life is be without a care.

So I set my self with greatness as I walk this earth, time to heal and find my rights worths

to become unstopppable.