When they told you to stop skipping
noisily down corridors and dangerously up the stairs,
did you question your skipping abilities?
Did you wonder if said skip was high enough
in time, lively, energetic, contained?
Did you ponder in the dark, dawn-questioned hours
in grim solitude, just you and your mind?
Did you compare your skips with those of others?
Did you worry your skip may not find an audience,
interpret each passing smile or twitched eyebrow as snigger
and twitch at every word heading your way?
Did you stop skipping?
I thought not.