This post was written for the following prompts:
Would I be standing at the shoreline
Taking stock of my life?
Recalling all I had invested
And the resulting strife.
Would I profit from my time
Spent contemplating with this trouble and strife?
Or would I just admire the taxing birds,
And cut the tapestries thread with my sharpened knife.
Perhaps it would be me struggling at sea
The dividends tugged me beneath the waves
All my capital gone, no more salary for me
My hope of annuities would not save
Perhaps I would struggle, it’s a stretch but I might try
For isn’t life for the brave
No, that tapestry I wouldn’t like
I want to live, not visit the grave
Maybe it would portray the reality
Of the existence I now endure
The shock of high electricity
Rising costs that simply unmoor
The feeling of inadequacy
For which there seems to be no cure
But that tapestry is too depressing
Life in not such a bore
If my life was a tapestry I hope it displayed the truth
That I did not follow orders, or bond to correspond
I strived to believe in myself
No matter how life went wrong
For I am unique, a one of a kind
I don’t want to strive to belong
So let me thread my needle again
And weave a dream where I will not be conned.