Whispers arise from the sidewalks.
There are footprints stained into
The concrete where my feet gently stand.
Glancing into the distance,
I realize that many people have walked this path before.
Once I thought that I was the only one.
These people, were they once as broken as I am?
Do any of these faded souls still stroll
Down this cracked path, as I do?
These voices whispering into my head
Are telling me that I shouldn't be here.
This is the wrong path to take.
Like I always have, and always will,
I have ignored their requests and continued with my journey.
The stars are behind clouds tonight.
There is no light in the sky,
But there is in fact a bright image
At the end of this broken road.
Footsteps are slowing down.
Prints of prescience are turning around.
Should I continue, or should I twist my posture
And make my way back to the beginning?
Should I listen to those voices that have warned me?
My left foot seeps into the ground once more,
Before I make my decision.