Not Trying

The eve before Christmas
a day like all days
I sit 'doing stepwork'
while in my head games get played

I let my mind wander
it gets lured from my life
subtle probing
pushes my mind
to piss poor places
I feel like what I think's being watched
from the eyes of other people's faces

I give in to distraction
these now neunced thoughts
letting my mind be moved
like my thoughts can be bought

I lack conviction
is what I tell myself
it's my wanton willpower
and incessant indecision
that flummox my footing
leaving me with faulty feet
and nowhere to stand.