Strait

I’ll exit in quiet and angst-hastened steps Over the sanded dust on that jinxing floor; And with well-metered gait soon shoot out Into a sea of blank faces beyond the door. I own I must pity each unspeaking grain Of sad earth asleep under my agile feet, Unaware of those heavy strides of pain, Resolute where tears and anxiety meet. I nurse a weird thought that I’ll encounter An intolerably inquisitive eye as I saunter Past every low stretch of panicky ground, Curious whereto my swift legs are bound. It will be a hastily embarked on walk to far Climes cast between two impossible walls: Meanest Fate on dim life's left-handed end, Luck posted on shinier side of such fracas. At seven-thirty in the chilly morn’s breeze, I’ll roam wherever Destiny’s winds please!