I plan too far ahead. Of all life's curses
This seems the most benign: I always know
Just who I am and where I want to go.
But I am so exposed to life's reverses,
The changes from her betters to her worses,
Because I have planned out so far, that woe
Still finds me through my planning even so:
Thus fate by irony my fault amerces.
Thinking so far, I also can see threats
Arise before they're real, and, haunted thus,
Can make from nothing such an awful fuss,
That my foresight unwittingly abets
The danger's coming. Yet for all of this
I'd rather see than live in blinded bliss.
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