Malia should sing, go to school,
and do anything else she wants to,
and even though I like our plan,
I don’t like that it’s a secret—
doing something we shouldn’t.
I feel the weight of this in every pedal,
like my tires spinning in the mud.
One difficult choice
to make, and suddenly
everything works its way in,
changes how everything looks.
I should be at synagogue,
studying, getting ready,
but since my mom had to go
everyone lets me do
whatever I want to do
and they leave me alone about it.
I know they want me to learn
to make my own decisions,
but I don’t want them
to leave me alone.