Cul de Sac

No fate, no contingency,
The past has to be the past
It is for no good reason.

There’s nothing controlling it
And no one outsmarting it,
And yet you’re a part of it

Daydreaming of shaping it
With your own greed or goodness,
Sometimes seeming to succeed,

Which thrills you, but then often
Not working out, which scares you,
And you think, what should I do?

Most helpless in your belief
That you can’t be that helpless.