Straining up lines, making bridges, With the vast world stretched outside. Leaning on the window edge, Lost into the ocean of my mind. I think, whyI don’t have those Magellan’s feet, I can’t travel as he did, Traversed the world with his fleet. Like a rooted sapling, Firm at the soil, immobile! I dance and toss but don’t move. I have these options three, One to stay still and happy. Placid with whatever I see. Another is to swallow the disgust, Making no noise, Though heart wrecked, Posing out with poise. Burning as the fire on the hearth, None of them I choose to be. Sliding into the slits like sand, My spirit I wish to set free.
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