Sitting again thinking what is to come
Who will I be when this is all done?
Happy and sad never quite sure
One day at a time is the all mighty word.
Minute by minute I watch what I say
Second by second my thoughts run away.
Not knowing who I am at such a strange age
It is never too late - at least that's what they say.
This entry was posted
on Monday, December 29, 2008
at 7:31 PM
and is filed under
poem,
rehab,
thoughts,
writing
. You can follow any responses to this entry through the
comments feed
.