What Comes Next

Often than not, we lose our ways,
Walking paths undescribed and leered upon.
Why pick a definitive road, shrouded, unstaked where it lays
Brushed by the contrasts of dawn?

Strength, is it measured by ability?
Or laughter, defined only by simplicity.
When is it alright to pace about, to lose sanity,
Plunging into deeper depths with questions unanswered, lacking clarity.

But ever so often, will picks us up,
Brushes off the dust on our shoulders
Reaching out towards our necks while we keep our eyes shut,
Only to take away the lasting, scarring, hefty bolders.

It's always when we walk away, leaving the shedding of our skin,
Do we ever look back and think
"Was I ever this way?"
Some choose to bear that memorable brink.
But in the end, what do we redeem?

Smile, it says.
Come child,
Walk.
Walk these newly laid tiles.

Create new stories,
For you never know,
What comes next.