MY DEAR OVERSEER.

I’ve made a career
Out of hypochondria;
I’ve worried
And worse.
Lived up more lies
Than a seesaw has highs;
I’ve hurried
The hearse.

I’ve found little cheer
Reading Mr. Shakespeare;
I’ve pondered
The endings.
Researched the why’s,
And wherefore art thou guides;
I’ve wandered
The windings.

I’ve felt mortal fear
For the state of my sphere,
And had me
No answer.
Revered the size
Of the planet outside
That gave me
A cancer.

I’ve found that I’m near
The end of endear;
I’m rendered
And stronger.
Walked point for the wise,
And pleasantly died,
And meandered
No longer.