Fidgeting Aims

I rise with the sun on my back.
It wobble; it wiggle
But, nonetheless, I remain on my track

“This one, I shall sack!” in my manifesto,
But I don’t know.
Our purest goals are lingered with hints of skepticism
I’m sure that I know.

This road burns, unbelievably
Hope diminishes, as progression proceeds.
The sun burns in my soul
But honestly, I just don’t know



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