Another Wishbone.

The following words are the insight into a beautiful soul, one so dear to me.


The more I look toward my future.

The more I think of all that has defined my path.

Challenges that tested me beyond what I thought strength could be.

A journey with no beginning, ending when a date arrives that I have already chosen.

Forget not the events of today,

Nor focus on the unknown of tomorrow

But peer into the future that holds little more than an echo.

An echo of only loyalty and integrity.

Everything I once touched was created by others.

A life that had become disposable.

Together we have arrived not at a fork in the road.

But at a wishbone.

A point of decision.

A point of instant gratification.

All of you desire the break of that wishbone to exist on my side.

You feel justified and consider yourselves deserving of the larger part.

I choose the short piece.

I embrace the barriers that are behind the fragment I see as a predestined key.

I am at peace with the key I hold in my hand.

I am at piece to hold the lock with closed eyes,

And feel what purity and balance is.

You however choose the worn path.

A path with no end.

Defined by the larger piece of the wishbone.

Follow the line while dragging your trophy.

After all, society considers you the victor.

Your peers consider you the victor.

You shaped your body into the same mold they used.

Your values have created your self worth.

Integrity disagrees.

I am not burdened by your disposable choices.

While you see me as defeated,

I embrace it as a birth.

A birth who can adsorb the purity that has no fine print.

You can’t see anything different than your past.

In some ways you have no future.

As technology brings you to attention,

A singing bird does the same to me.

My ship may be smaller that yours but has no anchor.

It is much faster.

It shall always lead.

The needs you all hold in your pockets are your dead weight.

They control how far you will travel and who stands by your side.

I control my life as I please with no restrictions.

My foundation was built by my own hands.

With my own time.

Cured and solidified with my own integrity.

It is a platform to hold the thoughts that exist.

Only while my eyes are open to the world.

A world that has asked for nothing

But to be free of the anchor you have become.

I enjoy what you see as burdensome.

I enjoy the mountain that only I see,

Behind the clouds you continue to create.

Your end is already written.

Mine continues to be written.

Without boundaries or chapters.

Without a cover created by others.

I write on empty paper that I have made.

With what I see as an endless supply.

It not be a guide, but a journey.

A journey over virgin soil.

Reflect on your hard, burdensome path.

A path that lay beyond gold covered gates.

Remember what owns you.

Remember what you destroyed within yourself

To travel with others on the same worn path.

To float on the surface of shallow waters.

Waters which may recede without warning.

My horizon is what I seek.

To you, my horizon is but a line.

Instead I see a line that shall never point forward,

But remind me that it is equal to me,

Parallel to me.

A finish line that none of your shall ever reach.

You decided to take the larger part of the wishbone.

The anticipation for you has ended.

Hold that piece close.

It is all you have.


~ by Agent M on November 27, 2009.

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