Am I done at 31?
All that fun that had just
begun has now been flung in the past.
Cast aside and at a loss,
tedious dross is my constant.
No more waiting to grow-up, the
growing has finished.
Any procrastinations for tomorrow
are diminished.
The scene is set, the ships are
moored, and yet I wait idly bored.
Scraping for inspiration in a
load of nought,
Who thought this was all it was
cracked up to be?
Unfortunately, maturity requires
motivation and I just don’t have the energy….
Am I done at 31?
I don’t think I even started.
