Cinquain #11

Most of

My life I assumed

I would be wise when aged.

Only recently, I grasped that all-knowing is out

Of reach.

Everytime a

Step is taken towards

Grasping the horizon of a concept,

I was taught there is another horizon always

Behind it

To take

A road leads on

To endless choices, endless roads that

Are indeed always less traveled by our own

Feet stepping

Onto the

Life we live because

We are unique, even if we

Try to be similar. We aren’t alike in

Any way.

Acceptable, like

Wisdom, is an illusion.

Doesn’t matter. Even if we achieve

Finding our groove, exactitude is simply as out

Of reach.