Why

Why can't I leave it just to glide

across my life and I just watch

or just to float on ageless guide

a healthy oar but no I botch

It streams across and I just bat

I play with it and sit unwell

it takes a choir to sing just that

or stronger soul to ward off hell

To mine and my own I am never full

I stare aghast at invisible scar

deformed by me when time is dull

or when I'm tested by life thus far

"No not that. Nor that!" I drone

unkempt by many a number of reasons

but who am I to say what I own

if all my marks are left stone freezing

Supposing if I took to heart

all the things I've written up since

would I finally know that my part

to ruin would slowly tear me evince