Stains on my path


Looking down there is a path ahead, clear and inviting

Looking back there are stains in the dirt, muddy and frightening

Scared maybe of what lies ahead on the bend, worthy but unseen

Scared of what I may have left behind, comfortable but mean

Walking ahead of others as I leave broken pieces, shattered in my wake

Walking behind others as I step over mistakes, the same ones I’ll make

Learning from the blood left from death, empty eyes, ignorance and wrath

Learning from the stolen pieces of my soul that have graciously stained my path

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