2017
Dear 2017,
I think I've lost the script.
I just had it
Revised and re-revised.
Everyone wanted a say.
So, what happened?
Now, a storm's blown in
Flipped the set over
Tossed the walls aside.
Crash!
There's a cold sweat
Going down my back.
Fragments hover past me.
Around me, the world oscillates
Between comedy and tragedy.
I feel like an untethered balloon
Floating through the clouds.
My direction dictated by every passing gust of wind.
Below me,
The world's a mismatch,
A patchwork quilt,
And I've no idea where I might land.
One set point..
Me
The one thing I can't escape
The continual script
Set on a loop
Some days the future feels so infinite
Like a library littered with far too many books
Other days,
It's the same damn story
Over and over again
Conductor,
Tell me
Is this really a symphony
Or simply a series
Of impromptus
Tied together by my love
Of synchrony