Like a cyclops wearing an eye patch, we’ve never been able since our birth
To know what has been printed on life’s next chapter
Like a pig snuffling truffle treasure buried deep under the earth
Detectives searching for clues hinting a happily-ever-after
Like a grain of salt in a spoon of sugar, how every choice will affect
Our daily cup of tea or coffee, is an elusive mystery until
The present is a ghost, we watch curled up on the couch to reconnect
Reading the miraculous events recorded from our will
Like holes in swiss cheese, what makes or breaks an ego
Can be answered twice by what we do or what we don’t
Identity as fluid as seaweed in waves, hidden in the gutter – no.
Wait anxiously for the turn of each page? I won’t.
I will be the generator of my own word.
And my story will be heard.
Life is too short for waiting so take that pencil and write! Fill the blank pages with the future you’ve always dreamed about, because you are the only author of your personal book of life.
Thanks for reading,