AGAINST THE FLOW OF TRAFFIC – ACTON28.BLOG

Went to a foreign land to teach a language;

Came away a pupil enlightened;

Yet deep down, insecure, lost, and frightened.



Returned once again, a teacher of sorts;

Exchanged words through gained culture;

Yet inside parts lay torn up like leftovers from a vulture.



Empty dreams, wayward walks, ambitious ideas;

No urgency to take first flight;

Stood there looking up at everything bright.



Hope came along, a bundle of delightful fears;

Taught by all, time to tackle doubt’s countless chapters;

For the next part, praying for aspirational longing raptures.