I wish my heart were somewhat bigger –
As wide as space and twice as long.
Then little things might fail to trigger
The sense that something’s “always” wrong.
It only takes the smallest wrangle
To make me question my design:
I want to know the other’s angle
And why it doesn’t go with mine.
I’d like to think I’m more enlightened;
It’s plain as day, though, that I’m not.
I wouldn’t mind my being frightened
If I were happy with my lot.
It’s not that I’ve got far to go.
Will I know when I get there, though?
Photo by Elijah Hiett on Unsplash
