Fence Sitting

Tired, oh so tired,
sitting on this fence,
consumed by jumbled thoughts;
living in limbo land
in the state of confusion.

Exhausted, yet so restless,
my discontent magnified,
indecision racks my brain;
plagues my days;
rules my nights.

Waiting, oh so patiently,
for a sign;
a flicker of light;
a jolt of reason.
Where can I find it?

Even this,
my written word,
once my salvation,
has deserted me -
an unanswered prayer.

Enough, enough
of this fence sitting,
this complacency and ambivalence
tied together, inexplicably,
with a bow of inertia.

Awake, awake
from this numbing stupor
that keeps me paralyzed,
unable to move
from this splintering wood.

Fence sitting
is for birds resting;
young boys dreaming;
fat cats basking;
not for self-aware me.