Every footstep holds a story
And adds to the journey
Some are heavy with guilt, worry and frustrations
Others with hope
Some were stepped
Gun to head
The indents cry
"Help, we were not meant to be taken!"
Some barely leave a footprint at all
Taken by running shoes
And flying feet
Eager steps that want to get there soon
But the footsteps don't tell you that
There...
That place
Is determined by the guns
Standing on guard
Waiting to knock you down
That place
Is created
By words
That make you falter
The stem of the storms in your eyes
The indents
Do not tell you
Disaster is inevitable
And that if you find yourself
Sinking in the sand
You must build yourself
A castle
And you wish they did
RVee
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