I desire something more, but fear even something greater.
The pace I run is steady but I want to run past my limits.
I have no achievements so far but I know by this time next year if I live, I won’t be the same.
I fail to admit that am lazy, I sleep and drain my energy on the meaningless.
No excuse is enough to be a failure, I fail, it’s my own doing, I succeed, fair.
This journey of mine seem open-ended, but I feel more. More of me, less of the old me.
Time I forgot evolves too, so does my age.
Does it really matter now?
Dyna Ekwueme Copyright, 2015.