My Trajectory. A poem.

My trajectory:
sometimes straight
and narrow,
sometimes a drunk man
attempting to walk a straight line,
while the cop just rolls his eyes.

My trajectory:
never in doubt,
sometimes questioning.
A walk through a dark forest,
as the furry eaves and murky weave
close off any chance of escape.

Clearer in hindsight,
never misplaced.
God-given, forthright and true.

My trajectory:
is you.

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