I feel a pull to go forward, to something I just cannot see
I stand at the edge, waiting to understand.
I don’t want to go. Not yet.
Before me is nothing but darkness, a road I’ve never been on
I’m not really walking but stumbling
And I don’t want to go. Not yet
I weep for what I wanted that didn’t happen.
I weep for what I thought that wasn’t true.
I weep knowing I can’t stay where I am but not wanting to go.
I’m told that this place is better.
That it’s bright and lovely and good.
But I’m scare to leave all my old hopes and dreams.
I don’t want to go. Please, Not yet.