Of course

Alone in my thoughts.
  The scariest place I know of.
My decisions haunts me:
  I hated the norm,
But I can't simply ignore it.
  I must follow it
And change it bit by little bit
  Until it forms into a shape I like.
But the cement has hardened
  For I took to long.
I cannot just add water
  And ask it to be fluid again.
Now my hands are tired and dirty
  With nothing but mud to shape.
I will still say to life:
  Give me nothing,
and I will still be able to create.
  Even if it pains me.
Even if I no longer can.
  I will create in my mind
What my body can no longer accomplish.
  Leaving a trail
For the next sculptor
  So that when he understands my thoughts,
He will become better than I.
  And the protocol completes
another cycle.