When the future arrives and shining stars dip below the horizon,
The path set before now will be traveled,
Unanswered questions forgotten, daily trials overcome.
Yet one cannot help but wonder, as wondering is commonplace,
From when to where my life will be made, and who will sit across my dinner table,
And return my longing glance,
These questions, answered not by logic, but dangle
Thinly from a string which Fates will cut in good time,
Provided they don’t get distracted,
As I have here in this expression of thought.
Times its hard to see around Future’s bend,
for tomorrow’s windshield is currently obscure.
Then again, may not we get so caught in our destination,
That we forget the road that carries us.
To be literal, or as literal as is possible
for a lost individual of my age,
I hope not to lose the purpose of tomorrow while
preparing for the days after, but simultaneously,
Must remember not to be ensnared into the
trap of pointless dramas and countermelodies,
For along that web patrols a very large predator,
whom I wish not to meet.
The Solution? Keep your opinion as your identity,
Do not needlessly jump in front of bullets,
and maybe you’ll make it,
(not literally) around the world, and won’t,
(not literally),( perhaps slightly), run out of gas along the way.
Life’s gas stations are few and far between, so
Live every mile like it’s your last.