On the Nature of I
A sonnet of self exploration and confusion.
I tend to over-complicate it all.
The simple, extravagant and new.
I heard on say, "Pride comes before a fall."
If I fall, it's only in love with you.
I tend to over-estimate myself,
And the love that I can give or receive.
I will no longer rest upon that shelf,
making waves impossible to perceive.
But I'm too far, there is no turning back
To relearn lessons that have long since passed.
There's no starting over, that is a fact.
It's sad; Your first mistake could be your last.
I'm in love again. I already know,
I smell the flowers from the seeds you sow.