An Albatross Weighs Me Down
by Michael Doyle

Once again, I stand reminded of a weight
That my days are numbered and have a date
On which no more effort will be to my gain
I push forward that my life is not in vain

It amounts to the cost of my own life to me
All the troubles in my soul and yet to be
This is that something that isn't very nice
However much it goes against all sage advice

These are my life's bangers flashing in my head
The things done and the too much that was said
The memories that I cannot leave alone or behind
The visions in my sight permanently in my mind

Like a tortured poet, this is my soul undressed
As I stare at the ceiling looking at my own mess
The tears flooding my eyes are not half as blinding
As my conscience shouting and constantly reminding

Like a fan-boy, I stand listening about my ability
What it means when shaped to it's great capability
But then, when I'm alone, I suffer the quiet drama
Of my life lived through in all its naked trauma

Like the ancient mariner, you grab at my albatross
Whispering what could go wrong and of all the loss
I know beyond knowing that I am besieged by death
I have been the one breathing my supposed last breath

And each time, I have managed to get up once again
Knowing the strength of my soul is really my best friend
Maybe the everyday opportunities offer their invitations
But I think maybe I'm best served by my inner convictions

(c) May 11, 2024   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved