Free will is a thing of beauty
I could say that out loud, but I don’t 
I am not sure whether I choose to
Or whether I will, or I won’t 

There are options there if I want them
Some dangling worms I could bite
Some carrots and sticks, some tricks to unpick
Some say that I can’t, but I might

I’m static but find myself drifting
I’m clueless with plenty of clues
In stillness, I’m steadily shifting
Gripped loosely by this tethered muse

There’s clarity unmasked by confusion
There’s a light undimmed by this fog
There's sanity in sweet delusion
Some roads revealed by the smog

I’m afraid that I’m getting quite fearless
For I question without asking why
Surrounded by colleagues, I'm peerless
Being nosey, I’m not one to pry

I steadily march through my stumbling
Find flatness in each peak and trough
Ennui engaged, with appropriate rage
I am neither switched on, nor turned off

I hear so well through the deafness
And see blindly now with clear sight
I might feel glum, if I wasn’t so numb
What I’m sensing is mundane delight

There’s a chance I could plummet to greatness 
Offend without ever being rude
Zigzagging, I curve into straightness
Always lost in a brief interlude 

With my ego as flat as twelve mountains
And my bones so delightfully sore 
I could drink from the driest of fountains
And become such an interesting bore

But on I shall go, ever ceasing
Sinking buoyantly with wasteful thrift
Stupidly clever, for now and for never
I am passively eager. Adrift