What is it like to be her?
Never sure of what to do; Unsure of every decision
How to describe her?
Fickle, Fickle, Fickle
She can never seem to stick to one path
She sees one, but then the whispers confuse her
Bringing other paths into her sight
She knows the whispers mean no harm
They only wish to guide her
Steer her onto the right path
The path she is meant for
A path that she herself is not even certain of
Shall she follow the staff of Cadeceus?
Held by the hands of Hermes...
Correction, the staff of Asclepius?
Held by the great Asclepius himself?
Shall she run into his arms?
Grasp his namesake rod, like so many others?
Or should she turn her back on him?
Turn away from the white walls
And set her sights on a different path
The sky blue comforter
Covered in fluffy white pillows
Pillows that entrance her with visions of colors and swirls
Books and Pages
Dreams and Fantasies
Should she follow that path?
Run down it like a child on Christmas?
Jump into its arms of cotton with the sky blue view?
Let it wrap her in its tight embrace?
Where fully enveloped, her mind will wander?
Where the pillows will fill her thoughts of creativity and pages?
When will she find her answers?
When will her path become clear?