Sputtering (153/365)

I guess I feel like a bottle rocket
That spiraled out of trajectory
And hit a wall
All this fire
All this energy
If properly directed
Would’ve shot to the moon
And burst out in glory
Where it could have been admired
For its speed and drive
And the heights it reached
While its dying embers bathed in moonlight
But instead it sputters and spins and wastes its power
In ten different directions
Panicking and causing fear
Before dying a dud
Thank God for a boyfriend and friends on the ground
So I know which way is up