Every time. I pull up to my Therapist’s office, there seems to be a young girl, waiting to shoot a smile in my direction.
I think of her future and mine.
I think of the reasons behind our smiles.
I think of my age, 32–her’s, likely, merely 12.
She smiles; I smile back. But I have the knowledge of what might be next to come.
For her; For me.
She is the future. But the future is undecided.
America:“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”
Photo Credit: Lady Liberty Weeps by phyteclub Lady Liberty Weeps by phyteclub