Transitions

By Annya Baral

I stand at the turning of a page

Half child, half coming of age

Behind me, a world, full of childhood games

Ahead a life of goals and names

Once the loudest worry was a broken toy

Now it’s chapters, submissions and deadlines

Timetables were once for show

Now they take my leisure hours away, you know?

Corridors, where we would run every day

Now whisper ‘these years are slipping away’

Friends still laugh in the same way, yet their voices are grown

Tinged with a worry, we all silently own

We speak of exams, streams, and careers

Yet hide our questions, doubts, and fears

Every morning, I carry the weight of my marks, my choices, my fate

Transitions aren’t gentle, they cut like knives

yet they come stealthily, you wouldn’t even catch sight.

They slip in farewells, last days, last exams

The last time we sit in a classroom chair

It feels like a mountain, we're supposed to cross

Each path filled with gain and loss

As I take each shaky step , I know

That moving on is the way one grows

Fear walks with me, yet hope does too

Both asking ‘ what will you choose? ‘

A world of question, a mind full of doubt

Yet, also, a flame that won’t go out

Transitions are not endings, they are beginnings anew

A chance to discover a brighter view

They are bridges , fragile yet true

And crossing them is proof we grew

When tomorrow opens its gates

I will not tremble , I will not wait

For transitions, are proof that nothing will stay

Yet everything we are will not slip away

By Annya Baral