quit or try harder?
 plague of my life sits waiting
 under setting sun
 
 my daughters beg me
 for a morning to see them
 (no more predawn work)
 
 i try exercise
 to beg love for the body
 that i lost for them
 
 i give up dairy
 and drinking; saying bad things;
 but it’s not enough
 
 time swallowed by plans
 i will never quite finish
 (and ungraded work)
 
 i beg clarity
 from my second (lost) language,
 for tongue-trapped escape
 
 but it’s not enough
 to find that pivotal time
 lost in the shuffle
 
 i beg forgiveness
 from the self i promised me
 twenty years ago
 
 i hope i find it
 hidden in filtered sun rays
 that trickle through time