There are times when I let myself
Get carried away, because I'm too tired
To think, or stop, and wonder
About the many rights and wrongs
They're always telling you about.
I don't want to live in fear,
Or go to sleep on regrets
Because I missed out. I can't always
Steer straight, or keep my eyes
Glued to the road, every turn
Another thirty seconds of careful
Contemplation. And the people,
The ones I pick up, the ones
I leave standing by the side?
Is each really going to shape me
Into some greater human being,
Or more often than not, into
Something worse than scum?
Do I have the same unknown power
Over them? I've heard it many more
Times than I care to remember,
That no man is an island. That each
Action is part of a sequence. Even
Dwight got that right. But I
Want to stand up, I want to stand out!
I want to be recognized,
Not as the 360th degree of a circle,
But as me. A point, a blot perhaps,
But something significant,
And something whole.
And for that, what does direction matter?