Poem

Here's a follow-up to the last post...a poem (considering I was in poetry class when writing that blog). It's a villanelle (a traditional style of poetry, you still have no idea...don't worry about it).

What if I cannot find I could be great?
My life seems not to hold a guarantee.
What do I then suffer as my end fate?

I do not have the dreams that you create,
nor meander straight to my destiny.
What if I cannot find I could be great?

I sit and struggle with my own debate,
in the park near the long, unending sea.
What do I then suffer as my end fate?

I cannot find a hope, so I await
a light to illuminate my fate's key.
What if I cannot find I could be great?

Where is the life I planned when I was eight?
It is cluttered within all this debris.
What do I then suffer as my end fate?

I'm arranging my life as a clean slate.
Although, I find that you might just agree.
What if I cannot find I could be great?
What do I then suffer as my end fate?