It is frustrating

To see the unseen

To know the right road

And you think

Why is something

That is so clear to me

Not clear to others

Since I was young

Hands on my back

Pushed me to the front

You speak. You go.

And people clamor

How? Why?

And I don’t know how

I smell such ways

But I naively think

It’s part of a rope

We are all holding

And I do fear

From time to time

If I’m honest

That I won’t be able

To explain the good decision

That no one will follow