Poetry

You’ll be good to go.

imageGood to go, good to go, good to go.
Good to go, good to go, good to go.

Walking down the winding path;
The path made of everything new,
Silent days and screaming nights,
Happy fights and painful comfort,
I stop and think.

I think of all those hopeless days.
I think of all those shouting matches.
I think of all those broken promises.
I think of all those lost smiles.
I think of how everything has changed,
With the days gone by,
And passage of time, altering my reality.

I no longer crave the comfort of company.
I used to write as if I wouldn’t survive;
Survive without the support of my words.
But, now I write of the broken promises and the lost smiles.
Now? I write of the sad reality.
Now, I write of reality.

I look up from my spot,
perched on the roadside bench,
And see the strain in the laughter,
And hear the tears about to fall.

I think back to the past, and then, I smile.
I smile because I am letting go.
I smile because I am ready to glow.
I smile because the breaths are numbered,
And I don’t want to waste another,
Thinking of the regrets plaguing the time gone by.
I smile because I am ready.

I stand up from my seat at that roadside bench,
And I feel lighter.
Lighter, because I am leaving it all behind,
Right there on that iron bench
With the peeling paint and a crooked leg.
Lighter, because…just, because.
I start walking again with a slight smile playing on my lips,
And this time, I don’t look back.

Toodles!
~A♥~

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