Aren’t we all but roots?

Always searching

For something to latch onto-

The past, people, places

Or something untrue.



Why drudge in the present,

When you can bask

In a sweet utopian nostalgia

Which shields your roots and mask.


Why brave the storm alone

When you can root yourself

To a beloved,

And depend on them

For your soul to be fed.


Why just reminisce

When you can revisit

And walk,

On the same soil

Where you learned to talk.


Why not root yourself

To an experience which is only in your head,

Which gives you hope, a momentary dawn-

Because honestly,

That is what’s guiding you on.


One thought on “Roots

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