Grateful for sobriety letting me pickup old hobbies like poetry, here’s one of my favorite poems I wrote:
What is fulfillment?
Where does it go?
When will I claim it?
How would I know?
So desired yet so evasive,
Like cocaine spilled on the snow.
Life without it’s so abrasive,
Like a
picnic without pinot.
Our chronic dissatisfaction,
Leads to a chain reaction.
Comparing ourselves to others,
As a basis for our actions.
Can’t help ourselves one bit,
Keep going back for more.
We love the disappointment,
Of inciting inner war.
Goals become hard
To set, and to achieve.
As the days grow older,
It gets hard to believe
Motivation and time
Are easy to forget
Even for us who choose
To live without regret.