The becoming path lays bare and slightly sad
A lot it does say of what was there to be had
Many memories rest here but they never do die
Some sad, some humorous and others just dry
A white pearly door seen from the old entrance
The plaque on it bares a stick shift resemblance
That day was indeed a good day to remember
A door opens and wakens memory in slumber
The pearly white car sits lonely on dead grass
A layer of dirt has formed thickly upon its glass
The only method to get to work is so clear now
But how do I drive it without ever knowing how
No choices here to dwell upon and time is near
The key in my hand and heart drumming in fear
Thoughts racing of all I can remember in story
The clutch, the gears, that boss's angriest glory
One hour left for learning how to drive this beast
Enough time to learn how to get to work at least
Time to cruise the neighborhood and learn quick
For today my dear self you conquer driving stick
The ride starts shaky followed by a sudden death
Beginning this journey and can not enjoy a breath
The first round proves heavy when put ever lightly
Sooner then later, the riding improve more slightly
A few rounds of the old block on a nice sunny day
The fear of the sudden chocking begins to decay
Replaced by confidence and a pride of necessity
Did not know driving could be such great bounty
Arriving to work with time to spare for another ride
Can not help but fall victim to my newly found pride
A smile breaks loose from teeth grinding like rocks
As a door shuts to wait for other opportunity knocks
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Another poem from the Fortress of Memories. More to come about the fortress itself and the different paths and different rooms. Hope you enjoy.
