Choose Your Lane

We sketch our futures in pencil,
hands trembling over a map
of possible highways.

As children we stand barefoot
on the world’s on‑ramp,
some obey the humming fast lane,
others veer toward forbidden shoulders,
treating limits like loose rumors.

Teen years speed up the heart;
respect should be the guardrail,
but desire blows through us
like a tailwind,
sending us into unexpected exits.

Adulthood arrives like a toll booth,
exact change, no warning.
Lanes split: purposeful, steady, slow,
with shadowed detours whispering shortcuts.

Every exit asks who we’re becoming.

Two lives in one car learn
that maps rarely match.
Some love moves fast,
some steady,
some slow but still forward.

In the end, choosing a lane
is less about speed
than direction,
and the quiet hope
that every mile ahead
can still open
into something bright.