My Own Road

Tear drops line the path
where I once skipped quick
in happiness I was now I’m
at the end of my wick.

Burned ashes fly in a breeze
from a ceremony I’ve made
taking roads where others
make me feel like I fade.

I need to gather myself up
and push forward to home.
But I know when I get there
I will be arriving alone.

I want to be me and happy
but I fancy a smile a hand
but not to make me feel like
a loved respected man.

Why do some need them?
The smiles I don’t know.
All I can do is what’s best
for me and my own soul.

Peace is sad sometimes but
I shall ruminate in bliss
free from the chains of
someone else’s wish. 

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