It seems that everybody has a plan,
a goal to which they give their heart and soul;
they plot a course, do everything they can...
and suddenly the keyword is control.
I see how everybody hits a wall,
from time to time it’s just what comes to be;
no matter how they pine, they seem to fall...
despite their passion and intensity.
I think that I would rather play it cool,
and let the future look out for its own;
the humble one will never look the fool...
like those who go on blindly and alone.
In realizing I am not that tough...
I’m satisfied, and mine is just enough.

Bryon D. Howell Bryon D. Howell has been writing poetry for 6 years. He is the editor-in-Chief of a new online poetry magazine.
For more of Bryon's's poetry, goto his website at http://freewebs.com/persistentmirage/ or contact him below.

This poem Copyright ©2005 - Bryon D. Howell. Reproduced with permission.

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