I want, yet I don’t
I think I don’t, yet the thought stirs a storm
One moment it seems like I am almost certain
And the next I find I don’t know a thing at all
I tried to smile only to
Fail terribly when I found I couldn’t do it
The thought of having pretend
to be optimistic
how can one trudge forth?
Muddled, muddled, muddled.
And in uncertainty and ever-distractions we step across
muddy puddles of duddle.