My swagger is not the same as Jaggers,
Sometimes my mind isn’t as sharp as daggers,
I thought my progress was limitless,
I fall short, realizing it’s staggered,

I used to try to just push through it,
So much now that my body says it can’t do it,

My intellect is not as genius as I’d like,
I find myself in argument with self-disliked,
It’s as if my ego is bankrupt, discovering it’s useless,
I try not to feel so stagnant or contrite,

Am I wrong in my attempt to change the all that I see,
Should I just feel solace in being able to just maintain me,

My confidence is wavering,
My self-doubt is trifling,
I wonder if I’m as good as they say I am,
Maybe I’m doing too much to be encouraging,

I stay so tired that my nightmares have become my Darkside,
I feel as though my heart is taking Kal-El’s last breath for him,

I allow no tears to fall for a reason unknown,
It is not unhappiness that moves me, but fear in failure home grown,
I use prayer as my tool to withstand this torment,
I try to keep in mind that others have invest in my future unseen,

It is my destiny to be a beckon of consistency for my friends and family,
It is God’s strength that courses through my veins in the face of adversity,

I get up from being knocked down, be the Devil again,
I dust off my swagger and sharpen the dagger I strike with again,
I will grab this life by horns and do what Texans do to the ground with it,
My rest will be sweet when my story is at it’s end…