I am stood at the edge of now, my cliffs
shorn and tall, the future a sea
of stars that I need only choose to 
tread upon, my feet pointed and my arches
high, as I tenderly imagine 
where starlight might pull.

This future is unknown, my remaining
hours a mystery to all but the weavements
of time,
barren I shall not make it,
I can dream of what to be, of where
I can go, no longer a solo venture,
no longer a scared 80s child,
I am determined, a rocket of energy,
and I am aware.

I can be happier;
I am blessed with support, with structures
that care and tend to my garden,
I am the flowers, the intrusions mere weeds
that can be plucked and removed,
while I recount the fact that I am not alone,
a belief that needs to take root.

I can be a father;
my wish to mentor, to be a figurehead
in the ways I always wanted, to share 
my whole new self in our unit, trust that 
what I have and can offer,
propels our child
to reach infinity.

I can be successful;
a possibility in every manner, for success
is measurable in ways I am leapfrogging
toward, with creativity alone, a year
of pomes is a success worth admiring,
thus freeing locked mind, 
leading into future endeavours,
where writing never ceases, and
self fulfilled goals are scored.

I can be better;
improvement and learning is something
I am yearning, there are pieces of
knowledge, both trivial and material,
to bolster my worth,
as a partner, 
as a writer,
as a human.  

I can be OK;
The world surely appears full of doom,
gloom and room for bad actors to wrestle
narratives, but I can be OK, remembering
this loud minority attempts to be
the wall to sap my will,
my drive, and hope,
but with my loved ones
and taking stock of those who need
my attention, OK, I can be.

I can be entertaining;
three times a week I have the time of
my life, with friends and friends, 
while we laugh and chuckle at video games
and buffoonery, and I can smile
and feel good, that I provide 
opportunities for those having times
a tough, diverting despair onto 
calamitous gaming, puzzling puzzows
and madcap make believe rules. 

I can be myself;
while I can never be rid of this two
brained menace of a mind,
I can live maskless,  I can accept
that genetics created this soul
that surely struggles, but that is OK,
the weight of the world is not
my burden, only the weight of
a single command is all
I should make of myself, and that is
‘I be me‘,
for ever.