In my head a thousand problems kindle and glow, A myriad of questions wrestle, tussle and flow, I feel weighted in heart, with drops of burning lead, Which with patience, I have to douse before I'm
dead; And though the lights in me flicker, dimmer and faze, I keep my visions hopeful, bright, fiercely ablaze, For no instincts more have I that I can borrow, My chosen paths are the ones I have to follow.
