Gregory North

No Passion
© Gregory North, 2005

I've just got no passion, no focus, no drive.
I just have no int'rests upon which I thrive.
I cannot decide on one thing I like best.
It's very annoying, a fair dinkum pest.
The sca-les in future, perhaps will be tipped.
I fear though, till then, I'll remain non-descript.

Some fortunate folk have found what turns them on.
They're full of commitment – uncertainty gone.
For some, it's a job that they can't live without.
They know ev'ry facet, there's simply no doubt.
No payment is needed; they'd do it for free.
Such adm'rable people – they're nothing like me!

I've tried a few things I've enjoyed for a while.
Thought, "This could be it. Yeah, this job is my style."
But as I keep going, I find that I'm bored,
not gaining success that I thought was assured.
You've heard the expression "the jack of all trades" –
I'm master of none – I've had no accolades!

I've just got no passion, no burning desire.
There isn't a thing sets my belly on fire.
I think it's alright, but its nothing real flash.
I'll take it or leave it, its not a big smash.
I'll fiddle around and I'll say its okay –
you can't expect marvels my passion's away!

Some people are wrapped in a hobby they've found.
They're in it so deep you can find them near drowned!
It could be a craft, or a club, or a sport.
It brings them to life, well now who would have thought?
They've like-minded people to share in their glee –
enthused and excited – not passive like me.

I'm not into footy, the cricket or beer.
I'm no Aussie ocker – some blokes think I'm queer.
I run like a weirdo, I can't catch a ball.
From bikes, I just take a spectacular fall.
I've got a few hobbies I s'pose you could say,
but none that I really can think of today.

I've just got no passion, emotion'ly dead.
Perhaps peanut butter combines with white bread
to drive out excitement like riot police.
If true, then my problems are bound to increase.
I'll check my consumption and maybe cut back.
It won't be today, 'cause my passion's too slack.

Some parents enjoy raising fam'lies the best
and put in great effort to nurture the nest.
They live for their children, to help them succeed,
with selfless devotion and love guaranteed.
Supporting and giving their guidance for free.
They're saints in the making – a tough thing for me!

I like time with kiddies, now don't get me wrong.
It's just not a pastime that drives me to song.
I know it's important to bring them up right.
They're our nation's future and that should be bright.
That's all the more reason to keep me away –
I don't even know what to do day to day!

I've just got no passion, no spark here inside.
A trait that I know I can't easily hide.
At least in my manner I rarely offend.
I don't like to argue – what could I defend?
So most people like me – I'm not too extreme,
but can't hold their int'rest, my passion won't scream.

There has to be something my passion won't flout –
a purpose for living, a reason to shout!
It has to be there – 'cause it wasn't destroyed.
The core of my life simply can't be a void.
I've got some potential; I've glimpsed it before.
This maze of my life just keeps hiding that door.

I cannot be destined to just muddle through.
A reason must be there, that has to be true.
Yes, somewhere a something defines who I am
and proves that my being is not just a sham.
But I've heard destruction can come from excess.
So I'll just look later – my passion's a mess.

I've just got no passion, no focus, no drive.
I just have no int'rests upon which I thrive.
I cannot decide on one thing I like best.
It's very annoying, a fair dinkum pest.
The sca-les in future, perhaps will be tipped.
I fear though, till then, I'll remain non-descript.

< The Murray, Mate Back to See list of poems Two Things >
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© Gregory North 2010. Photos by Andrew Bosman and Gregory North. Updated 
August 2010