Unsure
![](https://s3.amazonaws.com/marquee-test-akiaisur2rgicbmpehea/2e9W3SzXSdqOCEt6MEhW_road%20poem%20side.jpg)
“Are we there yet?”
I badger my mother.
No response.
“Ow!” I shout,
“Why did you pull
my hair!” I snap.
“So-rry,” my brother insists .
I glance to my left
and see my older
brother fast sleep.
Turning around, I see
my little brothers building
a makeshift blanket fortress.
I jerk my head forward
to the blaring directions that flow
freely from my father’s phone.
“I have no clue where we’re going,”
I mutter. Mom rolls her eyes.
“I wouldn’t drop you off
in the middle of the desert,”
my mother replies.
“Yeah, “ my dad adds,
“it would take too long
to drive there and back.
You don’t always have
to know where you’re headed.”
I’m stuck in our small Jeep,
and unsure of where I belong.
I travel down the road.
The road I call,
the mystery of life.
![](https://s3.amazonaws.com/marquee-test-akiaisur2rgicbmpehea/S6bKzk9dTcuqrTrEwVVD_infinitybevelr%20flat%281%29.jpg)
Kathryn Hirtz is a 12-year-old attending St. Patrick Catholic School in Rolla, Missouri, as a seventh grader. She is a competitive swimmer and runner; enjoys reading, writing, and watching crime, drama, adventure, and action shows; and is learning how to play the flute. She loves roller coasters, Titanic museums, and the beach.