A Threatening Question


I can feel the gravity of the question
pressing down on me, pinning me on all fours
My eyes roving frantically in all directions
seeking an unavailable opportunity where I can slip away
But the bulk of the question renders me motionless
An inundation of panic washes over me
Under duress of the question
My heart lets out a sound that is so weak and indecisive.

Wherever I hide,
I will surely run into the gauntlet of those
who demand to know when I am going to spring into action
Even if I have been spirited away to the most remote place
The sharp edge of the question will keep cornering me
like a hound detecting the scent of blood in the air
The question, even in my sleep, keeps ringing in my ears:
When are you going to take up driving?

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