Moonshots
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…