Remember the first day?
When it was very hard practicing and training,
as it was very hard truly in the first swing
the first warm-up, or the first stretch, the first exercise
of your muscles, in your chosen sport?
When you’re the foreign around in your new classroom,
no one knows you, no words that must be spitted
on your mouth when befriending,
and it was a shy and shameful thing to be known,
where you believe quietude was the solution?
When all things and stuffs in the new-fangled workplace,
and they force you to be familiar with them,
so that you can move and work,
yet all that you did was catastrophe, disaster at first
then after the debacles you strive to know?
When your first day will be the last,
like a one-time performance, when pressure made you fast
when tense and nervous seconds tick and mark off
that maybe your instrument will fail a note
or you didn’t keep up with the sway of your troupe?
We always witness the first day,
The first day or like Friday the 13th
You will not identify whether luck or misfortune
But memorize, recognize always,
That first day is not the only day that we will witness
As first has second, third, fourth and so on
YOU ARE READING
Forces That Made Us Thinking
PoetryA celebration of free poetic expression of the sensible and the nonsensical life where invisible forces push and pull our ever-expressive beings.