Nervous about my uncertain future,

I passed on a night of adventure

to visit a soothsayer.

Her sayings weren't soothing.

She seemed quite disapproving,

and I felt like I wasn't getting what I paid for.

I told her how I've always

sought out adventures,

dwelled in mystery,

seeked excitement.

But now I'm aging rapidly,

and I just want to be reassured

that I can simultaneously grow

in age, excitement, and adventure.

She did nothing magical,

didn't look into my future.

She had no special powers,

but was still my soothsayer when

she pointed out the obvious:

Right

Now

you are sitting in a mysterious room,

discussing your future with a magical soothsayer,

and you are concerned about a lack of adventure.

If you enjoyed this poem, you may enjoy Luke Savage's book, My Life, My Death, available in paperback and digital here