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Every time I try, it's the same little fight I wage with myself, when no one is looking,
Hoping to find a way out, another day after the next, my resilience puffs of steam unhooking,
But they always tell me, to achieve the best, the paths to it were to be tread with caution,
They were bubbles; illusions as light as feathers, so meant to vanish before dawn could cushion.
Perhaps that's why, even today as I look around, I'm at war with myself after each moment,
Trying to prove, not to myself, but to everyone who instilled this exact predicament,
It is my story only, and no one's book to write, struggles and success so tested and jagged,
After coming so far, there's no way in this eternity, that I'm hanging my shoes and going back.
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