The start.

They say it’s the hardest part.

When the weight of possibility 

becomes the burden of choice

and we know not who or when

to devote our heart.


So we seek and strive in art, 

torn apart, betwixt servility

 and self-determination

our voice

made for our ears-

or theirs.


But so paths depart

and I remain at the start

trapped within time

waiting for something to happen

and then?