I originally wrote this poem in the early 1990s. When I re-read this poem a few years back, I wasn't happy with how it had turned out. I wrote this version of the poem on January 11, 2010, and it's from the point of view of a speaker who wonders whether or not it's futile to get ahead in their life.
I try to make it through each day
And I tell everyone that I'm just fine
But it seems I just can't get ahead
Am I just wasting my time?
Two steps forward, and one step back
I wish I could see the end of the line
It seems like such an uphill battle
Am I just wasting my time?
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