Jabbing and jabbing,
It jabs into my back to push me further ahead;
Into my side when I feel I can't go on.
It makes me stumble when I slow down,
Pushes my head down when try to look at my journey.
They say it will keep me in check,
That this jabbing is part of the process—
It's to help me grow older.
And when my eyes want to wander and look straight ahead
At the sky that is blue and too bright for my juvenile eyes,
I feel it thwack my head, pushing my eyes back into downcast.
'Don't look 'til we tell you to. We do this for you.'
So I believe them, because this jabbing is the only thing keeping me going.
The ever-expanse of the rocky ground at my feet
That I stare at and stumble day in and day out across, my mind blank,
My eyes without the light of the sun.
'We'll guide you where to go, don't worry. You don't have to do anything.'
It's beautifully simple and all I'll ever need.
After all, if I never look at anything else,
The ground is really the only thing keeping me from floating far away from here,
Into the crystal sky that sometimes calls me.
I won't listen to it, though—that luminous sky—and instead will keep my focus upon
The rocks, and this jabbing that is for my own good.
And when it thunks me, makes me stumble,
I'll look up at them and apoligise,
(It's all my fault, after all.)
And blame it on being young.
18 October 2006