Pocket Change

Sometimes I get tired of me. Tired of the same old struggles, the same old face staring back at me in the mirror. Sometimes I feel that I am a person I'd rather not know. I'd rather see me on the street, a beggar calling for real change instead of it's counterfeit, and keep walking. Sometimes I'd like to see what it's like to be you. Maybe if I was away from these step-brother sins, I could see the real picture and never forget it. If I could see me from the outside, would I know when something is wrong? Would I have the strength to ask myself and not fear what the answer would be? Could I convince myself to embrace more than pocket change? Weariness is an unfit companion, but one who refuses to leave. He dogs your step from the beginning of the road to the end... which is sometimes the place that he choses, and no farther. I am a place that I can never vacation from. I am a never-ending project with few rewards. I am a word that never seems to look like it's spelled right, but never loses its meaning. But I am never far from hope. I will never give up on lost causes. I will not buy the neatly wrapped package of resignation. I have not given up on myself. And I never will; because I was not given up on.