Sweaty, cold hands grip the cold rails,
agonized eyes stare at her almost fading trails–
footprints of all she has done,
mud piles of all her missed fun,
holed-patches of all she has lost,
unturned stones of her dreams still at frost.
Waiting lungs heave one deep, deep breath,
shaky foot finally decided to take its first step–
towards a foggy future she has yet to know,
towards a misty tomorrow no crystal ball can show.
With a hoping heart cloaked with lit-up love,
with a warrior soul armored with fearless faith,
she runs and crosses her own unsteady bridge,
away from her yesterday’s oh, so useless weights.
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Unsplash
In response to dVerse‘s Poetics: Abridged Version by the beautifully-hearted lillian.
Note: This is what happens when your 25th birthday is less than two weeks away. 😉 And it is fascinating that my…
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