Ennui

I think I was more . . . what? . . .

when I just judged myself harshly, what was I more?

comfortable with my status quo?  satisfied with my life?  that's not exactly right . . .

appreciative of it?

maybe so . . .

It's a gray, cold, rainy day.  Matches my mood.

Time, time, time . . . See what's become of me
while I looked around for my possibilities.
I was so hard to please.
But look around: leaves are brown
and the sky is a hazy shade of winter.

. . .

Hang on to your hopes, my friend.
That's an easy thing to say, but if your hopes should pass away,
simply pretend that you can build them again.