When you leave home for the first time, Someone might recognize you by The sound of your voice, the way you wear your clothes, How you solve a problem. You may wish to shed that skin, start fresh, But hold tight, that secret safe inside your soul. Dance to the old rhythm of the streets— The rush of the subways, the hiss of the buses. Close your eyes, and imagine the stories Behind each window of the buildings you grew up in, Soaring into the sky at night, like flickering eyes Ascending to heaven. The deepest creativity comes from what you did not control, But learned to mold, to shape your heart.