No Title… Yet

A littler birdie sang this song outside my window this morning.


These are not scars that you see. These freed me from disease. From the undetermined, from the chains and trials walked before me. These are not scars that you see.

Focus so hard on the future, you forgot the present. Don’t realize you have to ask questions, that’s the key to tomorrow’s answers. One foot toward yesterday’s sorrows. I walk alone conflicted. Each step no commitment. All roads lead to right, yet just might be utterly wrong.

This is a fair representation, with no hesitation. Seriously thankful for the loss, it was no longer my cross. Free from ideology and fear, holding me back and scared. Am I supposed to enjoy this privilege, handed over with little precision? I dare to leap, I dare to fly, no longer wary of the straddle I ride.

Future me is as future does, betting heavy on the over-prepared, never scared but ready. These are not scars that you see. These were my attempts at flying ever so precociously. What I learned is still to be determined, tomorrow’s lessons learned are today’s deterrents.