I had a conversation with my father but no words were said.  
I've asked him for answers before,
and I still have the feeling embedded in my head that
Some sense of clarity, I will be fed.

Some speak to God in hopes that the right light will shine upon the dark places in their lives
To show true meaning.
Sometimes I'm slowly weaning, off of my habits that are detrimental,
That mask the fundamental issues behind my problems.
Right now I may sound feeble and weak,
But I seek,
Because I'm not sure that it's just that me can solve them.

I live the life of an in-the-know outsider,
Yet I feel so far behind in a society full of people wearing blinders.
Is it just that I'm in a rut?
Or am I only half-living, with eyes wide shut?
I know what's wrong,
But I don't feel I am strong enough to set the stage.
It's as if I'm waiting for something so radical to hit me in the face to spark the necessary change.

Strange isn't it?
I mean the solutions are so simplistic.
It's hard even admitting these things being one usually so realistic.
But on the contrary I have been known to manipulate my reality with conflicts that are imaginary.  
Acknowledging contradictions are comparable to a prescription for the soul,
One spot higher on the stairs.
Self-improvement can take it's toll, but we don't carry on without repairs.

This life happens so fast that in a flash you might've missed it.
So I'm holding on,
To this pencil and the art of right now.
I feel I must do what I can,
and keep faith that fulfillment can be achieved, somehow.
Whatever comes my way though, I absolutely cannot retreat,
Because there's no telling when I too, shall inevitably rest in peace.