A Qualified Purpose

I chose to rather ride,

Before it chose me to end the tide.

Whistled did the chores of troubles,

I stumbled still, with the winds of grumbles.

Donned on me, oh!, It did,

All of the things I missed.

It’s fine, a miss, said the toss of the coin,

Of the chosen choices.

A purpose, I’d called, filled with struggles and hurdles,

Some to be dealt with, some to experience,

Some to just give away the distress, held for too long.

A change to breathe again, freely, to find meanings,

The worth in what you make and what you do.

The result is you, your challenged self,

Who is to grow, who is to learn,

A great deal of putting in efforts for the done.

What shall suffice? An ask to be answered,

Unfilled but not unfinished.

A call that tricks, a price to pay.

A lot to see and right to tower,

The power to put, of all the eventful determinations.