The Road That I Wander Poem by peggi lennard

It isn't the road that I wander,
Or the people that just pass me by,
Or the way that the frost leaves me gasping
Under a clear midnight sky.
It isn't the way that I'm nothing,
A blight on the streets where I live,
Or the coins that they throw in revulsion,
I'm grateful for each coin they give.

It isn't the drug- riddled body
I drag with me day after day,
Or those who believe that the answers will come
If only I learn how to pray.
And it isn't the ones who will join me
On this cold-hearted road to the grave,
Or those who were stronger, or lucky,
Or discovered the strength to be brave.

It isn't the pain that I'm feeling,
Or the shame when I can't stop the tears,
Or the nights when the world starts receding
Into shadows that harbour the fears,
Or the times when I'm scared and so lonely,
Wishing my torment would cease,
And it's not that I fear the dying,
My death will bring nothing but peace.

It's just... there are times I remember,
In flashes of bright, blinding light,
The soft gentle touch of an angel
When demons unsettled my night.
And strong hands that lifted me skywards
To reach for a secret, beyond,
And the threadbare old tiger with only one eye
Of whom I am still very fond.

All gone, and the memories fading,
Lost down the pathways of living,
And life is too hard, too savage, too cruel
And never has been that forgiving.
Don't think that I seek my own peace of mind,
That I will have when I'm gone,
Nor relief from the grief that I bear every day
For the hurt and the harm that I've done.

It's just that I'd like to touch, one more time,
The hearts that still hold me so near
And look in those eyes that watched my decay
And capture each unwilling tear.
I'd like to see smiles, where now there is doubt,
And say, ‘Don't you worry it's fine.
You made no mistakes, you did all you could do,
This burden I carry is mine.

‘And I'm happy to go; I just need you to know,
I remember the life that we had,
So think of those times, all those good times,
Don't linger too long on the bad.
And don't walk these streets still believing
That there's some part of me left behind,
I'm already gone so let it be done,
Let me be, there is nothing to find.'

No, it isn't the road that I wander,
Or the people that just pass me by
Or the way that the frost leaves me gasping
Under a clear midnight sky,
But the hearts that lie dying in the wake of my storm
And the lives I have broken and marred
The days I have left will be lived in regret
For each life irredeemably scarred.

(December 2011)