I'm not writing that overdue book; nobody reads anymore,
With rejection staring in the face, excuses come to the fore.
To love and have lost is painful; it's better to hide in my cocoon,
The dead-end job is all I deserve; it will take guts to venture out soon.
For the job keeps the boat steady, don't I have mouths to feed?
Duty towards others is sacrosanct; can I be selfish about my needs?
I'm not lazy in finding a good job, I'm just being a perfectionist,
This time, let me leave no stone unturned, to ensure with destiny my tryst.
It's not the right time yet, so I let the life flow,
It's too risky a proposition, so I keep my profile low.
Am I being wise, or being scared? The question begs a reply.
Perhaps I lack the courage to act, and need philosophy to justify.
With inaction, I'm safe in the fortress; the rent I pay is regret.
Only action can give me wings, though as I fall, I'll look a fool, I get.
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