I stand and stare at nothing; nothing stares
At me, entices me to make a move.
I'm open to the nothingness that bares
Itself to me, to nudge me from my groove.
Behind me are my parents, neighborhood
Of children, my experiences, hate
And love, abuse and sorrow, much deadwood
That block my river's flows and form my fate.
But why must I endure my fate? Am I
Not free to form it for myself? I stand
And stare at nothingness. I will defy
My past and form my future with my hand.
You find the natural flows, you'll gain renown --
You push against the river and you'll drown.