I use to sit on the handle bars of my sisters bike. It was my way of challenging the laws of physics, “Comeon gravity, catch me if you can.”
And bars were the ones that I hung from as I embraced gravity on the playground during recess.
I use to save my coins just to get them from the corner store, my favorite was milk chocolate.
And during the lunch period in high school, the older boys spit them in battles, while they drew crowds around the hallway corners or in the parking lots
They are why many young hopefuls borrow lots – to take that great feat that stands between the rest of their lives or three wasted years.
They are the dark places where I have seen many lawyers retire after a long day of work, and where the wannabes go to cast their networks
And I read that for the unlucky many, they are the striped doors close, but hardly open

I sit somewhere in between the bars
in between my innocence and the age of responsibility
between my past and my future
between two paths, one that leading to freedom and the other to a life of confinement.
Between my Rock and a hard place. There I sit, snug in the crevice

I’m between the bars, but for now, I’ll just call it my resting place