I know not to burn bridges,
but I still seem to clutter my paths
I know how to put out the fires,
but I’ll get stuck, knee deep in ash
Every mountain I climb
is just another stone
blocking my path
my path back home
Every bump I hit
I’ll bring it along
Every rock I carry
makes me strong
I pick up every pebble
every stone, every boulder
I just keep adding to the weight
the weight on my shoulders
every rock I pick up
keeps weighing me down
But I’ll never let them go
even if they make me drown
My collection of stones,
my past , my story
my tradegies and triumphs
my sadness, my glory
I’m attached to my stones
I treasure my collection
what every stone represents
I have no recollection
my stones are a part of me
I cannot deny
I’ll carry these stones
until the day I die
—Carina Fosse—

1 Comment

  1. Nice work……that’s a good way of looking at it 🙂

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