Which I ever-foolishly try to master.
Emotional shrapnel from hidden mines,
Dig into my heart with their pointy little tines.
It's seventeen problem, packed into three,
Multiplied by life, and divided by me.
It's a busy day of nearly working,
Compounded by what might be lurking.
Turning a corner, hoping to see straight,
Twists and turns are another weight.
Searching for gems with a cost of free,
Multiplied by life, and divided by me.
Where is all this madness headed?
The answer is the thing most dreaded.
Translating the rules of spirituality,
Into the walking rulebook of me.
A resounding failuresque cacophony,
Multiplied by life, and divided by me.
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