By Kabriel Moorehead
Born of tradition that you’ve since rejected
Leaving behind the only thing you’ve ever known;
Home
Fleeing safety for the bright lights of the city.
In an attempt to become individuals we mature into a million
moths,
All attracted to the same bulb
And damned to the same destiny
You could have been different.
Slowly accumulated wisdom
And waited for the right moment to announce your arrival
You would have had the world bowing at your feet.
Now you bow in deference to the captain,
No longer in charge of life’s journey
Your fate is held in another’s hands,
Slowly crumbling from lack of care.
Or did you crudely rip it apart,
By attempting to fly too high to soon?
Maybe one day you’ll snatch it back,
Once your heart holds reverence for tradition again.
But not today.
Copyright 2013| Kabriel Moorehead
