My roads crossed are weary. They're many yet few.
I reach for my purse as I barely come too.
A creature I'm now and a creature I'm past.
I don't know my where abouts, where I was last.
But up now I'm going, a door I go through.
You may remember me but I do not you.
That was how I lived and that is in my past.
I've learned from this heartache, now i'm free at last
Copyright 12-20-2008 ©® Sarah Sisson
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hello Sarah, I do like this poem. Learning from our mistakes is a step toward real freedom. Very well penned. Thank you Richard