In the midst of this ever pressing life
Daughter, sister, friend, mother, wife
Craving harmony, dreading strife
Avoiding the sharpest edge of knife

In each role I surely seem to play
Not entirely sure which gets last say
Every second, minute, hour and day
Wondering now which toll to pay

Every single crumb long spoken for
Juggled through the ever open door
Leaving no more room to store
All the dreams once dreamt before

And in the darkest time of night
Where all is lost, even sight
Clutching hands struggle to hold on tight
Wonder, will I ever get it right?

09/15/2013

Posted on 09/15/2013
Copyright © 2025 Shannon McEwen