I wasn't sure what to write about or to put on here this week, so...here's another poem:

SEVENTY FIVE PERCENT

I sit here, thirty minutes shy of the twentieth occurrence

Of the anniversary of my birth, my initial insertion

Into this world we live in and the society that inhabits it

According to the numbers, I’m almost a quarter of the way through the transit

That will take me from my first crib to my death bed

As a matter of fact, with that being said

I look back now and wonder whether I am appreciating enough

Where I am going and where I am from

There is a long way to go before I reach half time

Between now and then, as long as I stay between the lines

That constitute "out of bounds" and "on the right path"

I will be around long enough to have a last laugh

Life is like pro sports, certain things they share ring true

As everyone comes to know, there is no mercy rule

Once in a while, you are going to get beat pretty bad, if not pelted

But if you decide to fold your hand, you satisfy whoever dealt it

As the second half begins, you start running on empty

And begin feeling the oncoming antonym of entry

But as I sit here on the verge of the bewitching hour

My gut feeling about my future has yet to begin to sour

Twenty years down, who knows how many more to go

I just have to pace myself, and soon I will know

Until then, I just need to live it how I like, avoid holding out for perfect

Take every challenge as it comes, and enjoy the next seventy five percent