Had a little chat with myself last night
But I don’t think I was listening, seldom
Ever do, so here I sit today, writing out
What I chose to ignore, or just couldn’t
Hear, the perils of self-appraisal becoming
Evident as the words take shape on this page.
Amusing really, this habit of dwelling on flaws,
Like a half-crazed diamond merchant who
Sits in a cramped little room when the days
Work is done, hunched over some fractured
Gem by candlelight, muttering disapproval
But surrounded by a wealth of precious stones.
Human nature or just my own, perhaps a little
Bit of both, I walk that line between the two,
Seldom ever looking at where it leads, only
Where its been, stumbling along in a futile
Kind of way, unmindful of where I am right
Now, reading maps to places I’ve already seen.
“Perils Of Self-Appraisal”