I can’t keep giving everything
Unless my everything’s renewed.
And so I dip my buckets in
The emptiness of solitude.
It’s easier to say than do.
But easier to do than die.
It all depends on who I am:
Arena man or passerby.
Remember, I have what they have.
The here, the now, the choice to strive.
And nothing else besides the three’s
Necessary to be alive.
Sufficient? Maybe. Maybe not.
Ideal? Maybe. Maybe not.
The here, the now, the choice to strive:
That’s everything I’ve ever got.