the lost man chronicles
the daily chronicle

write the verse

its easy to get lost in the big City of life.

to aspire and aspire until you tire and retire or resign to an easier mode of living

or at least until you get tired of giving and giving, and the burden of the boredom and the responsibility begin to weigh in—

that's when it gets complicated.
that's when you have to make important choices.
that's when you begin to hear the unhappy voices whimpering within.
that's when your passions and their obligations pull you apart.
that's when you start to realize who you really are.
that's when you begin to note the distance between passive complacency
and the diplomatic art—of living.
that's when suddenly you see how frantically you've been running in circles,
and that now you are likewise running out of time.
that's when you accept that values are uncertain,
evils are redeeming
and virtues are crimes.
that's when you realize that life can be either profoundly poetic or pathetically

and thus, that is when you're inclined to either give in and make life worse
or challenge yourself to write the verse
which ultimately—chronicles the sublime.

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