Something Of A Meaning

What am I doing?

This trite attempt at meaning.

I force myself along,

Like that person who says,

"I'll carry you through this kicking and screaming."

Yet I am that person.

The strong one.

The weak one.

At constant battle with myself,

Still not sure if I learn from it.

This is all so small,

so trivial.

Everything else is so much more,

So much bigger,

Has real meaning.

Yet here I sit,

Still making my attempts,

At something of a meaning.