Twenty Something

On the cusp of adelesence and adulthood...

I know nothing with any real certainty.

My only clarity is some false sense of time:
• How it passes.
• How doorways bridges burn in the blink of an eye.  
 
A pocket full of dreams.
A fist full of ambitions...
Tucked away in my pocket for safe keeping.
As of yet not placed in the drawer for rest...  
 
Early milestones line the way.
Destination unknown.
Everything is unknown...

The black and white perceptionof my childhood has sense bled to shades of grey.
Should colors dare make their way in time,
I do not know.
 
Youth is lead by blind hope for seasoned knowledge...

Perhaps in the achknowledgnent that nothing is known, there is wisdom.
 
Nothing is for certain.  

Concrete cracks and quakes.
Metal rusts and wears.
Stone erodes before it crumbles.
All we know is there's this moment and it's ours....
 
Upon our next inhale nothing is promised.  
If the road does choose to land beneath my feet with coming steps, the journey ahead is unknown...

But hopeful still.