No matter where we go,
What we are doing,
Or how we are doing it,
Our lives are sentences;

They are ongoing poetry lines,
Followed by commas and semicolons,
For a semicolon symbolizes where a sentence could've ended,
But didn't.
Our commas show us that we have unfinished business,
And remind us not to overlook the details.

So we go on,
Sitting in silence,
Shouting in anger,
And laughing with joy.

Pen in hand,
We are words in the wind,
Written freely from scarred hands,
We fly against the wind,
letting the sentences grow,
and our lives push on,
in our untitled poems.