Maybe these times of emptiness
Cause me to be grateful when times are full
Or maybe I’m just fooling myself
Maybe I shouldn’t be judging myself at all
Taking time to analyze the how’s and why’s
All the time and energy that takes
Might just win the prize
For the one who has wasted more time than anyone
For the one who’s missed the entire point of life
But what just is that “Point”?
Doesn’t that very word imply a specific destination?
A geographical place? A determined end?
Maybe we have it all wrong
Maybe life is simply a song
That would be quite ironic wouldn’t it?
The very thing I bemoan and despise
Be the thing that makes me healthy, wealthy, and wise
For it surely isn’t this early bedtime and awakening
Nor is it staying up late
Life has nothing to do with any of that
These rules we’ve all made up
To make us feel better about ourselves
I’ve taken those thoughts, put them on shelves
Labeled them, “things that just didn’t work out well for me”
The labels are hard to see
The font size is far too small
But the shelf looks great hanging on the wall
With all of those shells and trinkets
Maybe, just maybe
I’ve had it all wrong
Maybe my life is simply a song