If not for failure, there’d be more moonshots. Too much at stake, the child must wait Til the cards align themselves. Progress stale like bread exposed to air For days on end. Begins to Mold Herself in the image of someone she was told Means something to this world. In prayer stance, seeking a chance to start Over- Coming learning what was supposed to be The answers, reversed to an abomination of A predisposed righteous god Dueling between the ‘Not good to expose, impose, grab close, the things chosen’… We held as sacred “truths”. These men in suits are tossing out like chemical warfare Unyielding to the side exposed to air. She’s breathing in Mold Hardened. Dried out. Spores bred from generations of hardship. Scraped off and eaten. Spits out Whatever of her core values remains. So Little remains. Almost too late. Take’s a moonshot. If not for failure, there’d be more moonshots. Years pass. Veering to the left. She’s left to figure this out on her own. Separated from the masses, She breathes fresh air, Greener pastures She crowds her mind with stories of hope. Dreams that Bravery will bare confidence To take moonshots. In spite of failure, ever present as an result of Breathing in once toxic air, from lies, the misfortunates lived by, in vain, is now past her, but its shadow remains. When Rain falls She sees a flicker out in the distance, Drops reflect A snapshot of what could be, Choices made in an instance Doesnt once stop to check for danger, regretting nothing takes Giant leaps of faith Space grows between her and the ground below her, Suddenly comes back down Landing in puddles Looks down as the splashing water flies Outside the fence she played in. She dreams of taking giant leaps. Beyond that fence She begins to climb Collecting hopes she plants as seeds she waters with every puddle She falls into but walks away from. -Karat