What do I want to be
When I grow up?
A strange question to ask
At forty-five...
Yet I've been asking it
All my life
With no resolution.
What do I want to be
When I grow up?
Indeed,
What haven't I been?
I've hauled steel from Pennsylvania;
As an answering service operator
I've listened to the souless cries
Of the lost in the night;
I've helped end marriages
As a legal secretary,
And made dreams come true in countless ways
During my time in Yellowstone;
But always I am searching...
Searching...
Searching for what?
I am a writer,
Always looking for something within
And without;
Full of questions with no answers.
Am I lost myself?
Or is this quest my true path?
The carrot before me my destiny?
What do I want to be when I grow up?
I already am!