What does the future hold for me?
I ask the wind.
Do you know where it is headed
Right or wrong?
I hold out my palm
So you can see the lines
Do they tell the story
Of days to come?
There will be roses
And there will be thorns,
But will it hurt too much
Will it sting till I cry?
Will there be sunshine
Like there is now?
‘Do you know’,
I ask the wind
‘Of what is to come?’