I could do the "right" thing
and finally cave
or just continue
to dig my own grave.
An easy decision,
or so it should be,
and maybe it will be
eventually,
but right now there's simply
far too much at stake
and I'm probably making
a fatal mistake,
but better to stick
with the devil you know
than to take any risks
and potentially grow.

Too much time spent getting nowhere.
No more patience left to spare.
A wasted effort, best forgotten,
but then why do I still care?

Stand tall, but not too proud.
Speak up, but not too loud.
Don't be afraid to be yourself,
but only when allowed.
Try not to inconvenience
and stay out of the way,
but when it's deemed appropriate,
say what you have to say.

Meandering, pointless beyond recognition,
oblivious to the cause of this condition.
Inspiration once near is now slipping away.
Without passion to cling to, no spark lights the way.
Relentless, intimidating uncertainty
eliminates the trace of possibility.
Idealistically idle, unable to move.
Far too much left to learn, but still more left to prove.

Almost there, but not quite yet.
A given I'm not sure I'll get.
Sense and reason say take it slow,
but impatience has begun to grow.
Hour by hour the minutes creep,
while I wonder if I'm in too deep.
Within my grasp, but still out of reach.
Another day stalled in the breach.

A calculated reflex
in case of emergency.
Just a way to stack the decks
so nobody can see
the weakness hidden just below
the surface of my shell,
behind the curtain of the show
I can't bring myself to tell.

The higher I climb, the deeper I fall.
Doing whatever I can just to stall
the inevitable realization that I'm lost
behind some imaginary line that I've crossed.
No rescue in sight, no plan of attack.
Hoping against hope that I'll find my way back.
Biding and wasting my time until then
and wondering how this could have happened again.