These lonely days, in which I question my existence,

are plenty trying. Especially for my age.

What should I be, I wonder. Am I supposed to

get out in the world, and be someone

I wish to be?

I have friends;

and my friends have friends;

and my Friend’s friends have their own friends.

But unlike me, they have lives.

The only life I know is this. Sitting in house,

bored, lonely, sullen; but happy at times.

These days can be trying, for I think I’m almost at a

crossroads.

These days can be trying, for I live

the life of a little boy, even though I am

grown.

I wish to go places. Out of this city;

out of this state;

out of this country, to new places;

places that cast wonder throughout

the world.

But yet I am here. Dull, a regular boy

at a lonesome crossroads. When will there be spark?

When will I finally venture out?

When will I be lively?

Maybe in a couple of years.