I did not set my pen to write,
To only write in vain.
I did not ask for life as such,
Where every day is pain.
I did not plan this course I take,
Nor map can I recall.
I did not set myself too high,
Lest I miss-step and fall.
I did not use my voice to hurt-
At least not was my intention.
I did not leap into the fire,
I moved with apprehension.
I did not try to be this way-
Lonely, broken and sad.
I did not crave the finer things,
But made do with what I had.
I did not send my blame to Heaven,
For the downfalls in my life.
I did not crumble into a heap,
When presented with so much strife.
I did not understand, as child,
What roads would lay ahead.
I did not forget to be thankful for good,
Last night as I lay in bed.
I did not know how brutal,
Living life could really be.
I did not perceive reality,
Until it forced itself upon me.