What of expectations

What of expectations

Were they placed upon us

With a presumption

They would be fulfilled

Did they shape the future

Would it have changed

Had we known

Not to blunder blindly on

A little Pip in search of Magwitch

Heartbroken as much as Haversham

Jilted of the chance to break free

Of destiny

If only we had known

What it was meant to be

Would things have changed

With foresight

Perhaps, or not at all

As events unfold

How much choice exists

In their presentation

Are we fundamentally

Programmed to respond

To a set of situations

Even those that reoccur

A procession of Estella’s

Leading us astray

When even in the darkest night

There is enough light

To find our truth

Should we have the strength

To bear it

Do we ever really care

When the reality

Of our existence seems

To be right there

Tickling our noses

Tripping through daisies

On tiptoes

Looking for treasure

Before we have found

The bounty hidden

Deep within our own heart

Coming to an end

Before we start

Blaming ourselves

For a sense of loss

Feeling unfulfilled

When our hands are full

Of the broken pieces

We tried to hold together

All of our lives

Only to let them fall

When we were so close

To an understanding

Of how it all came to be

The answer that we were never

Any good at juggling

Was as close to an acceptance

Of our own agency

As the realisation

That the only expectations

Worth a candle

Were the ones we thought

To place

Upon ourselves.