I am rooted.
(suffering from chronic wanderlust contradicts
what I'm saying, don't you think?)
I'm rooted to my friends
(you guys are the best—life without you
would be intolerable)
I'm rooted to my family
(they're annoying but they love me and
that is all that matters)
I'm rooted to my home
(frequent earthquakes, delusional
people and all)
I'm rooted to my health
(besides the strep throat case a few years back
when I thought I was going to die)
I'm rooted to everything
(earth, air, fire, water; my future is mine
for the shaping)
And when I'm asked if I want to stay
why is it I always reply
that I'm getting out of here as fast
as I can?
Face it; I'm rooted.
Tied to this planet, my roots
than dinosaur bones.
My biggest fear?
That I can't pull those roots up
when the time comes…
Sorry about the strange spacing of the stanzas. Fictionpress hates me, what can I say?