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To The Sky

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There is a question we are all asked

Innocent, but increasingly


It is fastened to my mind



Longing for the answer

Until then,

I am tethered,

oppressed by the blank line

of this question

Truth is,

I don’t understand

Individuals who are already on the

clear highway

While I wander through the fog


How can you dedicate your


to one job?

I imagine a perpetual cycle of

repeat, rewind, replay

Like an old gramophone

Destined to play the same tune

But nothing more

A job may be worse than school

Ironic, isn’t it?

School is a regime

Learn this, learn that

Pass tests, earn grades



What now?

Life slows down...

Lagging, like a butterfly

emerging from her chrysalis

facing a wide,


For now,

it treads the air current

with a choice to make

Go with the flow


Carve your own path?

Let me float for a bit

and think

Because I don’t want to be

what other people tell me

I wish to flee,

to be free of this hindrance

and find my purpose

How I fit into the

puzzleboard of this world.

Then I can finally
take to the sky

And with each butterfly wingbeat
setting off a force which affects
you and I.

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