A Lost Thought

My life is a constant,

but I choose the variables.

The reactions of what life

throws in my direction,

are based on my choices

of what I decide to give

back to a world that

doesn’t know the meaning

of a slow and steady race,

but throws curve after curve,

until I lay breathing

in a corner of truth,

determining not whether

I will stand again but

rather which foot will go first,

until I stand tall enough to see

over a city of my hurdles,

that I am too strong,

to have a moment without

meaning. With no meaning,

we give up the control we

gain when we know the

weight of what we are given,

but have the knowledge to hold it

preciously in our hands, like a

feather that just might blow away.