…And on

It was dark where he came from
And cold where he’d been
He could never undo
All the things he had seen.

But he could walk away,
Leave those things in the past
If he wore the right shoes
And he learned to walk fast.

And he tried for a while
But the shoes rubbed his feet
And without looking back,
He felt lost, incomplete.

On this path with no ending
In sight, every day
He walked on
In the hope that today

Was the day he would see
The path’s end was in sight
But the day never came
Could he endlessly fight?

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This entry was posted in depression, Mental Health, Recovery and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to …And on

  1. jfb57 says:

    This is so poignant Pooks

    Liked by 1 person

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