All I want is you,
To make you proud
When all I can do
Is be me, when is
Enough good enough?
My steering wheel has
Too much bulk, my fingertips
Are cold, hold on, while
My heart drives out
Of control.
These shoes today, a horrible
Choice. Sure, watch me limp
Across the street,
Ha, still me wishful
Thinking, longing.
Curly hair, blown by
Monday’s fluttering wind
Let it be, messy again.
My mind spins against time
And all I hear is patience,
I’m fighting my
Inner child