Why do i feel so empty and missing something,
When i’ve got so much, much to be grateful for?
Still it’s not enough.
Is it ever enough?
Is this it?
As good as it gets?
Is it worth the constant shuffle - in search of
What?
Possession? Love? Belonging?
I look at other people and envy what they’ve got
Wonder why i haven’t
How i’m different, what i do wrong.
They've got a relationship i’ve never achieved.
Is it because i don’t want it,
Don’t require it
Don’t need it
Have enough already?
But i want it.
I feel worthless compared to my friends who have it.
Direction less
And pointless.
In theory.
Not all the time. There are other things to measure worth.
I’m good, helpful, passionate, concerned, but that one special person doesn’t see it.
I don’t know who that person is,
Maybe they’re already here and i won’t notice
Until i see the grass isn't greener.
I wish i could be content with what i’ve got.
I’m happy but i’m always searching for more.
But that might be what keeps me alive.
It’s disheartening and makes me bitterer by the day.
It concerns me more at the beginning of a morning,
Probably because i have a chance to make a change.
Friends have advice, reasoning, explainations,
There isn’t one answer but many,
I don’t know what my answer is.
I take my decisions from the advice of others,
Too much perhaps.
I’m a sponge.
But not a weak push-over sponge.
By the end of the day i no longer care,
I relax, it’s been a write off day, but a good one,
I've had fun, i’ve grown tired and dreams welcome me back to bed.
Obligations here, jobs to do there, “drive me home please”,
All day all day every day,
i suppose that’s life
I’m needing something that’s mine though,
To bring pleasure and purpose.
A building, a person, a place,
I’m not sure.
A sign or a path to show me which way,
But no such luck.
So it seems it’s all down to me.
Damn.
How come life appears to happen to others and i have to make life work for me?
People will tell me that’s not true.
But then that means i’m wrong, not right,
Me
A bad egg,
Worse
An unattractive egg,
For pounding purposes only.
Don’t think i think little of myself.
I've been told that by older, wiser people all my life
And it makes it worse, perpetuates the feeling,
It’s bollocks.
I like me,
It’s other people that aren't that amazed.
It could be argued that i shouldn't need all this acceptance,
Desire from other people,
Blame my programming.
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