No manuals now, no maps, no more guides,
Just this vertigo where every new day hides.
It’s feeling the shoe finally fits your stride,
While the soul lets its silken ribbons untie.
It’s not a speech, a plan, or a decree,
But solving the secret that sets you free.
That strange current rising up to your face,
When the future meets you in a head-on embrace.
Turning this age makes the air feel wide,
Wiping the old stains away with the tide.
To be the fire, the spark, the bright glow,
And dare to face the beauty that’s starting to show.
I turned 17, now what?
No manuals now, no maps, no more guides,
Just this vertigo where every new day hides.
It’s feeling the shoe finally fits your stride,
While the soul lets its silken ribbons untie.
It’s not a speech, a plan, or a decree,
But solving the secret that sets you free.
That strange current rising up to your face,
When the future meets you in a head-on embrace.
Turning this age makes the air feel wide,
Wiping the old stains away with the tide.
To be the fire, the spark, the bright glow,
And dare to face the beauty that’s starting to show.
I turned 17, now what?
