You find me once again
In need, in want,
Clinging to this world
Just barely with my sanity.
There is no cure
For the existence
The loneliness we all bear
In this adventure
We call life.
Yet I try so hard
To convince myself
This shred of free will
Of choice means something.
Indeed I feel like a pawn.
A toy for phantom forces
To bat across the Universe
With the will of a 2 year old
Playing with a ball
For two minutes then moving on.
Choice, I laugh and then sigh,
Because as Fate would have it,
Maybe it is my true destiny
To serve, to bow down, to pray
To play on the field of God's whim.
M. Kirkpatrick, 2019
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