It's OK

I don’t know why or how it works,
But I need you to tell me that it’s OK…
Somehow that small gift
Can sooth and smooth away
This burden that I bear
That rises in the night
And asks me if I dare
Search my past, my days,
and judge
Have I used my time, well?
Have I shared my gift,
Have I lived with virtue
Have I been alive?
I hope, then fear, that I have not
Neglected the rightful call
To live, meaningfully,
But I am unsure
And I am visited by dreams and wishes
That pluck at me
That worm so deep…
So I need you to know
That you can do for me
What I hope I have done for you:
Tell me that it’s OK.