Ways

It begs the question In what ways am I moving? Walking easy or eyes stuck on every face I see? Even distribution of weight in all directions A perfect balance The wind can't blow me over And it need not Since I am tied in knots Choosing nothing over something Take the safe lane All the ways I won't bend Though I can A memory of when I was willing But that's not what I want my being to be I could fall through the floorboard trapdoor And end up next to you Where I can't or rather don't want to be And it begs the question In what ways am I moving? Walking easy or eyes stuck on every face I see? I am allowed to enter Bright socks on my feet The door is bright red with a bow-tie-like symbol on it My very own Transition A again finding myself Which begs the question In what ways am I moving? Walking easy or eyes stuck on every face I see? Maybe you're like me LISTENER, How can you become familiar with your dislikes?