...I'm my own worst enemy." Don't Let Me Get Me, Pink
Musings on Vocation
What keeps me--pride or flaw--from what I love?
Is it a horrid vice which holds me here?
Some gifts or talents, presents from above,
My failing, not their being, which I fear.
My passion once ignites then fades away
Then seize upon some other act or cause.
The part I choose I perfectly portray
Then turn, ashamed and discontent, to pause.
So no completed effort I produce
And nothing polished, finished I can rend
I wonder at my self, my mind obtuse
Successes all imagined and pretend
Yet even so I could not better fare
Except to trust my loving God to care.
Isn't life ironic?