working for the man should've never been in our plan but it's the cards life dealt us.
we were meant for a grander scheme of things, broader horizons to spread our wings, the ability to defy gravity.
i'm sorry to say it wasn't.
waving goodbye as you left how was i to know how was i to know it could be last time i'd see you on my native soil?
your old stomping grounds, my old stomping grounds; and just at my feet where i stood, the resting place of relatives from your side i'd passed countless times but never knew was there until then.
it's bizarre life's circumstances we don't choose but live; it's funny how saying goodbye is more awkward than saying hello.
though you weren't really there until i reached adulthood, i read every single word you'd send me. the letters, the cards that would come secretly addressed to another relative. i had learned well before then it was perfectly fine to hide things.
look at where the wind blew me; it definitely wasn't flight, because that is by choice.
on the other side, maybe? no one here gets out alive.
you always said that was one of your favorite books.
no, no one does. but maybe it truly, finally means freedom.
freedom from the man, the pre-existing plan, and all the plights that prevent flight.
when a door closes, a window opens. i'll sleep with mine cracked tonight.