The Future

                         The concern that keeps me lying awake.                           

                       My fear in what the near future will bring. 

                         The truth that my ambition is to break.

                      Will my foolish hopes do nothing but sting?

                           What the purpose of life will create,     

                               Does not lie in the shelter of my hands.                      

                             Is there some fate for that I must await? 

                                    Will destiny be in a foreign land?

                               Will relationships become rotten,

                             Or will there be one who calls me his wife 

                                    As I break into strays of old cotton

                                Will he be with me throughout my life?

                                   For now, I live like lambs to the slaughter 

                                           For I am just a fish out of water