I’ve heard I'm insecure.
Define me in a word, I'm sure it would be immature.
But even when the last decade has been a blur;
Sarcasm, humor, and whit can be a cure.
In the bad jokes and the smiles there's an honestness...
A confidence.
A way to prep for all the ominous,
monotonous,
back alleys of your consciousness.
We all worry we’ll be synonymous
with the ample anonymous
examples of incompetence.
Stitching our lives together
with hallowed out accomplishments.
So laugh it up and you may find some purpose. Its better to be a sad clown in a world without a circus.