​The stairs haven’t always been perfect for me, son.
The floors were cracked,
windows broken,
nails bent,
completely trashed -
Empty.
But I keep on going,
groping in the dark,
grasping for the broken ledge,
trying to reach a place where the light shines.
Don’t go back, my son.
Don’t stop going,
don’t lose hope just because the path is messy.
Keep climbing, my love,
don’t give up,
for I’m still going;
going to the place where the light shines bright.
Because for me, son,
the stairs haven’t always been perfect.