Through no lack of trying,
Is it that nothing will be left for me,
After all that lying,
Down on my bed of comfort and privilege?
It takes all kinds, you know,
Surely, there should have been a place somewhere,
For someone with my appetite to go.
Some say the opportunities were there,
That they are still there, yet,
Yet, try to tell that to my confidence,
You'll be laughed off, I bet,
Until right now,
All bets officially closed,
There are still tacks I've yet to navigate,
Like trying only to follow my nose.
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