Caught In A Middle Road

Lounging on thin line of reflection,

longing for his undying affection.

Used to think I could be content,

with the spoonful of sugar,

before the medicine of obligation.

But alas, I live in the haunt of another life’s mansion on top of the hill.

It’s the pill of familiarity,

while I daydream of spontaneity.

Most women would be jealous,

but for another journey, I’m zealous.

Yes, many would say I’m like Elizabeth Bennett,

but I’m caught in a middle road, questioning all merit.

I just rather trust Shakespearian vigor and wit,

instead of Angela Duckworth’s practicality and life grit.