Sometimes like predators, sometimes like prey,
We prowl your
jungle of planned avenuesTo serve some God or just survive the day,
And learn to triage what we cannot choose.
Your wilderness becomes a winding trail
Carved by the machete of our career.
We know that you’ll forsake us if we fail
Or eat us up if we show signs of fear.
So we walk tall, with purpose in our faces,
Hoping our next mistake won’t be our last,
Mapping your traps till they’re familiar places,
Praying our future can redeem our past,
And wondering a hundred times a day:
Am I the predator now? Or the prey?
Copyright 2014 Matthew J Wells
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