in hindsight and in foresight,
i fear i bear far too much resemblance
to the spitfires that have
preceded my image.
i fear that my triumphs
as well my downfalls
can be predicted by my
chanting to my guidance, saying
"put me in the ring, sir,
i can handle it,"
and the resulting chaos
is just dramatic irony.
i pray that my compassion
trumps my catastrophic hubris.
put me in the ring, sir,
i can handle it