Trail systems have maps, you see
You can find your way out again
Even though it might not be easy
Life has no map
It has a fogged, blurry window.
Water droplets forming and falling down undirected routes.
Somehow, you have to make a choice from those routes
You need to know which way to turn
When to stop a fire
And when to let it burn
Trees grow and then crumble to dust
Mountains stay put,
Unlike some of us
The creatures know how to live their life
From the time it starts to the time they die
We get told what to do
Then we are set free
Guiding our boat on the choppy sea
Following the darkness of night and the bright of the day
Life has no map
But we all find our way.
YOU ARE READING
Translated thoughts
PoetryJust a book where I put all the emotions I don't want to show Welcome to my head Collection of freestyle poems (The first few suck. But then they get better. I promise)
