A Spider Web of Things
I’m tangled in the threads I chose to weave,
Each passion pulling gently at my soul.
A life of “want it all,” I still believe—
Yet chasing all has taken quite a toll.
I move a bit, then stall, then start again,
A restless dance with dreams I dare not name.
The web is mine, yet forged with silent strain,
And none of it has set my heart to flame.
The one pure love—my running—fades away,
While lesser things parade and stake their claim.
I trade my peace for noise that will not stay,
Each day a thread that loops back on the same.
So let me break the strands that do not sing,
And run, at last, with nothing but the spring.
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