I admit I run up on cliffs then have to retreat
But its because there’re these
Lines in the sand that I just can’t see.
Feels like sometimes
I touch a stone and it turns into a leaf
I seek freedom but find locks
with keys out of reach
I mean it’s like damn, can I get a map?
I try to climb mountains but get trapped in these cracks
I mean why
Is the land set up like that?
And then of course
I have my own
cliffs, traps, and dark valleys
So life’s real interesting with all of these territories
But what’s funny is that
Slowly I’m starting to love even a crack’s glory
starting to love riding the valleys edges and hills of my story
And I’m even learning to love
unlocking locks and making keys
And appreciating all the sky’s
Between mistaking rocks for leaves
Continuing the poetry challenge.
This is #4 of 5.