All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Crossroads
I tend to wander down a flock of crossroads,
Pulled astray by fleeting remembrance.
As the curtains covering the walls shift,
Divulging seclusive branches leading
Farther into shortcuts I dare not drift-
Down alleys I dare not face.
In pictures framed along the walls I’m faced
With unrelenting candor. Meeting another crossroad
Means meeting a choice I choose to poorly drift.
Past mistakes are put together by the red string of remembrance,
Carved into halls forever leading
The perception of my reflection to shift.
Each step Echos, the eyes of recollection shift
As the passing day transforms, never to be faced-
Forever lost in the leading
Light of Dawn. Trust in fate, as I am guided past crossroads
Past turns, forks, and splits, leaving me only the remembrance
Of prior to be my guiding drift.
As of stuck in a drift
The way is lost, as the shifting
Portraits mock me with forsaken remembrance.
Motley images with blurred faces
Race past as I spiral. More crossroads, more decisions. Another crossroad
Another fault. Press on, oblivious of where the future is leading.
I am the leading
Role of a pre-written story, a marionette whose lifeless drift
On the cold wood stage. I’m stuck at a crossroad
That decides my next move, a perpetual game of chess. Numbers shift
On the countdown clock. Tick, tick, tick. Who is that face
In the mirror? Tick, tick, tick. What’s left of me to remember.
One day I’ll remember
Getting lost in the corridors of this maze. Continue- and lead
To the undiscovered, a new era’s excavation. Wherever your facing
Your eyes and mind will start to drift,
Start to notice the reoccurrences, how the walls frequently shift
To make way for hollow paintings of a life that must be mine. I’m forever at a crossroad.
Forked into crossroads, each eerie road a hazy remembrance.
It’s over. Expired and tired- entombed with the shifting cages of my mind- only to lead in spirals, thoughts unquelled.
Suspended in serene drift, lashes resting on the cool skin of my face, I can wake up to unfounded reality.
Wake up
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
Olivia Han is an aspiring poet, photographer, and artist.