Drift

I wrote this in church. Just another one of my poems.

Drift
I’m just drifting along.
What is my place in life?
Why do I lack drive?

I’m adrift in a stormy sea.
Just closing my eyes,
Pretending I’m not being tossed like a toy
By a giant hand.
Who am I fooling?

Who do I run to?
Does anybody care?
I’m full of questions
That none can answer.
I’m full of answers
That everybody questions.
Does that make me wrong?

Drift.
I’m tired of drifting
I want something more.
I don’t want to be a stereotype.
I want to be more
Than some kid somebody knew in high school.
I want to stop drifting.
I want to live.