Bianca Free - Trekking

At night, it's a dance before I feel the weight of sleep
In the morn', it's a fight to fret the hazy deep
My spirit's all dried out, body profusely perspires
Two-thirds of me founders, one-third aspires
I'm split, and I can't bear such fiendish duplicity
I'm promising I'll fight when the fight's clearly not in me
I'm leaking, bursting, and finally, flowing without restraint
Mom says I'm going to make it, but I swear to her, I aint
Sporadically, I weep. Subconsciously, I fear
for the coming days that soon'll be here
And it's heavy on me, like the heaviest bull
Sagging all over, it's years past full
Still, I've been trekking life's vacillating road
Holding onto what little of me there is to hold

Bianca Free

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/trekking-2/