Tonight to escape tortuous torment I accept humiliating defeat,
crushed, I hope not to redeem my pitiable self tomorrow,
I shall not claim or try to accomplish any glorious feat,
just leave this crumpled paper to float with least sorrow;
contentment is nearby and treacherous aspirations must fly,
a chicken can dream but can never soar like an eagle,
but to be fair this solitary bird was never the one to cry,
despite pains been faithful to world and fun like dog beagle,
to be mature, calm and be respected this worm should try;
all said and done what is the fuss about success or even life,
the soaring eagle shall surely perish as this wriggling worm,
is there a reason or lofty purpose for all our ambitious strife,
loser’s whine or sagely counsel from a failure’s humble calm;
what if I fail before expectant world’s eyes or my own desire,
if I don’t fail inside and can rest myself dousing that inner fire.
Solitary Wanderer 