A Void

			My life can go nearly perfectly, 
			But that is it, isn't it,
			For it is only nearly -
			Never are my relationships
			Quite what I wish them to be -
			And so,
			I cannot take those last few steps 	
			Towards Happiness.

			I can never fully see those last few steps -
			At least one is always black
			So as to be invisible to my eye.
			Its strength is sometimes such
			That it dulls the rest of the stairs -
			Sucking my achievements from beneath me
			Into the void.

			All these steps have been worn by my passing -
			Bar the last few,
			For they are virgin to my weary footfall.