While cleaning up my desk,
I paused to take a look.
Under years and years of mess,
I chanced upon a notebook.
~
Scribbles filled the sheets,
doodles blurred the sides.
Leaf by leaf a pattern grew,
much like the changing tides.
~
Up and down my life’s gone by,
pretty pictures were for show.
Themes were abundant,
my feelings to and fro.
~
Reaching the cardboard end,
an epiphany spiraled fourth.
Each page was incomplete,
like a compass without a north.
~
My direction undecided,
goals were scrapped with ease.
My life’s been but a metaphor,
as is a whisper in the breeze.

~*~
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