As I reach clarity,
My hands furiously scrubbing the grime from my life,
The realisation hits me, hard,
That this is what it’s all about,
No matter how clear I make one window,
How hard I work,
How strained my body gets,
How weary my mind becomes,
The build up begins on another,
And so goes the cycle of my life,
As I make circles against the current,
I hope to wash away most of the gunk,
To get a glimpse,
Even a blurry one,
Of that distant horizon,
Of that elusive future.