On this journey
I’ve met countless faces.
Each with their own goal.
Proud, successful souls.
Someone to be.
Something to prove.

As the water rolled forward
And split around the forest,
I found boredom of the course.
How lovely the life of a lily pad.
To stand watch,
As the water carves new paths
And tomorrow is formed.

If certainty exists
I’m sure I’ll die pondering
Empty little nothings.
Unable to come to one decision.
If such an answer exists
I’ll help search,
But the trophy cannot be mine.

It would clash with my shoes.
Disagree with my voice.
Meaningless in the hands of
The Happiest Failure.
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