Young Writers Society

A pathway to where? Will I experience its meandering way?
Someone has before gained its wisdom, it is well tended, well tread.
Soon I will know what is around the bend, past the foliage that protects and hides my chosen way.

The calming green envelops me. I try to accept what it tells me. All will be well down the path before me.
A scent reminds me of happiness, a time long ago, a different path, a previous path.
A sound reminds me of my curiosity, to drive me forward on the path, to discover where the path will take me.

I will meet someone on the path, coming or going.
Will they be returning from a destination I will soon reach, or will they approach from behind, as clueless as me but more ready for the unknown?
If I listen, can I now my future? Do I have the patience to tread slowly, admiring the dense forest of confusion, taking my time to understand my surroundings?
Or will I run? Run from the path that makes me who I am, to hurry toward my destination, letting life pass me by, only a swirl of forgotten emotion in my wake.

The path waits before me.
I will travel it, how? when? my choices lie before me.
What I will do cannot be predicted, cannot be changed.




pull out the stops. I totally want to get better, and I see no other way. Be cruel if you must, I can take it. *Thanks!