moment by moment,
one step lighter then the previous but quicker
racing away from conscious dreams
it feels like we have come far
and we try not to look back…
but our footprints have walked on wet concrete
it’s exclusive – the past leaving scars –
scars that can’t be erased
and yet it brings out our solo strength
we never walked alone.
When did we become so headstrong
were we not zealous to remain from fables
and as our experiences go, we continue fighting to forget
is it our choice? YES! Not by inspiration – we hope
who chooses what to dream when we sleep?
we wish the concrete was ocean sand
and as the waves come, may they take our footprints
but rather, they splash cold water and we wake up
We may have chosen to decide that we were too tired to fight
Force was never made to accommodate love
but as no other best friend He sits and waits,
His hands scarred, and His knuckles with calluses
are never too tired to knock
He never left Home
Tapia 