clunking down the stairs [youth’s uncommitted changes]

foot prints crinkled on glass became engraved

with the crack and snap of every step;

for every promise never made, or ever kept.

 

unable to sit still, push and pull had nothing to yield.

like a new suitcase with old clothes making another roll,

clunking behind me down the stairs.

 

i am afraid, I have made changes equal to a reupholstered chair.

both, may look different, but, it’s the same old framework

hidden under there.

 

mistakes in chaos spins from flower to seed,

 whether from garden or weed.

all is to be released from the wind of time,

hoping not to drop on stone

or any memory, we leave behind.