I long to be who I am made to be.
Successful? Married? Wealthy? Alone?
The possibilities run off the blank page -
The blank page that stares up at me.
...
I know the pain of love, the sting of hate.
When you look up, down and light is not seen.
'Hi, nice to meet you. Feel free to reject me at any time.'
...
I see our world
I see the hustle and bustle of the inner city streets
I see the single mother working both day and night just so her children
have a place to lay their heads
...
Unwritten
I long to be who I am made to be.
Successful? Married? Wealthy? Alone?
The possibilities run off the blank page -
The blank page that stares up at me.
The past is no more; the present is unchangeable.
The future is yet to come.
A mother, a wife, a business woman, a Christian.
One can only imagine.
The page is still staring -
The book is still unwritten.