A POEM - I KNEW THAT I'D MAKE IT, I JUST DIDN'T KNOW HOW

I KNEW THAT I’D MAKE IT, I JUST DIDN’T KNOW HOW
It seemed like out there
On the road,
Just the same as back home,
there was always a chance,
But never a good one.
Single shots in the dark.
Trying to crack a bottle with blanks.
“how the fuck will I make it?”
I often wondered.
“how will I nail this thing?”
But in the end,
It wouldn’t matter how I would,
Just that I would, or if I would.
And even that didn’t matter,
All that much.
I’d had a good goddamn run.