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.

END

“Perils Of Self-Appraisal”