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!

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