45–∞

Each morning, I lieFlounder in the rivers mireGlut'nous ego beached, the jagged shore

Tangled up in fading warmthsOf what's to come, and past dueCotton pillows pulverize my sense of self-worth too

"A person with a why to live,can bear with almost any how."I squirm around and gasp for air, the whySimply will not come about .

Neither settled scores, nor marks beforeAre counted lucid through the horrorPatchwork quilts and body bagsWould some graceful giant pluck me from the treach'rous cragI'm affixed to

Wedged between the world and me,There's one task ever to complete,Upon it all the others are replete:Wake up, alight your body on your feet.