It isn't very sensible, but
I'd rather be stubborn towards the wardrobe.
I can't be like this for long. I
can't let things get so out of hand; not again.
Yet I have, to some extent;
not quite so badly as present tense, but
it comes to mind now and then.
So for that I will concede, and
maybe attempt a better reckoning. I'm sure
I've got it in me, somewhere --
on tap in some well I've yet to breach. And,
when found, it'll overwhelm
and drown me in a fleeting sense of purpose,
not to last, or to change;
subject to nothing but the nature of things,
and all their natural momentum.