Sometimes, sometimes sometimes sometimes.

Sometimes it's hard
To not feel like a false man.
I work hard, I pay my bills.
But still,
It can feel like I
Don't believe myself.

When I put my boots on in the morning
I feel like a child trying on his father's boots,
I feel like I'm pretending.

I didn't do any of this on my own,
This apartment, this career,
Everything I've ever done.

I just got lucky.

Who am I
Living my
Life for?

Am I living my life for me?
Or for this imaginary person
That I think I aught to be?

Maybe it doesn't matter,
This over complication
Detracts from the simplicity
Of just doing. Just being.

I should give a **** less,
Lighten up.
Don't take it all
So
Seriously.