Happy Birthday

Days go by, still I remain
Hopelessly lost, endlessly drained.
I'd be a wanderer if I just knew
Which direction to start in; I haven't a clue.

Yet something tells me that deep within
Lies surety, conviction, passion even.
I need only find the right lock for my key
So that gateways will open to envelop me.

Too many questions, no answers in sight;
How shall I know if my choices are right?
Do I take the safe and well-worn road?
Can I really place my instincts on hold?

On this day, I wish to act, somehow
(seems appropriate, a turning point, now)
Still. Something in me releases a scream
And wants to know why I've let go of a dream.