Five Years

He asked me all about my five-year plan
As though that’s something everyone has made
I ummed and aahhed and mumbled something vague
About organic growth and being paid.

The truth is that I never want to tell
I’m always waiting for a fun surprise
To lift me out from under life’s mundane
And gentle ebb and flow, into the skies.

I find it all-too-sad to just admit
What life would be without that strange delight
Of unexpected twist and turn and leap
The things that keep us up awake at night

So I refuse to plan for five years on
But hope the Euromillions to have won.