to borrow a few words from Rascal Flatts. i believe the road we travel on, however way we want it or wherever it leads, is a broken one trodden on by those before us. their mistakes are etched on the cracked concrete, their scraped skin on the burning asphalt.
the road i'm travelling on has marked itself on me, just as i have left traces of myself for people to see. i have scratches here, bruises there. i took another fall last night. despite my innocence mistakes are inevitable. i see the road signs. the directionals. i wonder why i still take a wrong turn.
today i am reminded, before i begin my day, that the hills and mountains before me that stretch unto eternity are the trepidations i must face. the climb, though ardorous, is worth the scenery you see when you get there. it just would've been nice to have someone else take the fall with me, to have a companion in the long stretch ahead.
0 comments:
Post a Comment