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Literature Text
The Path Home
No matter where I may roam
I always find the path home
No matter how far I walk
Or how much I seem to talk
I like to have talks with the trees and land
Like someone is there holding my hand
When I get upset I like to roam
Be by myself and on my own
I talk and talk and tell me true
The path home is waiting for you
If I go there now it would not be good
I might say things I not normally would
Sometimes I reign my anger in tight
And try to put it away for the night
I take deep breaths and exhale out
Wondering what I am so angry about
I keep telling myself, to understand
Anger is not settled with a fist or hand
As I head down that path on my way home
Never more to roam and roam...
No matter where I may roam
I always find the path home
No matter how far I walk
Or how much I seem to talk
I like to have talks with the trees and land
Like someone is there holding my hand
When I get upset I like to roam
Be by myself and on my own
I talk and talk and tell me true
The path home is waiting for you
If I go there now it would not be good
I might say things I not normally would
Sometimes I reign my anger in tight
And try to put it away for the night
I take deep breaths and exhale out
Wondering what I am so angry about
I keep telling myself, to understand
Anger is not settled with a fist or hand
As I head down that path on my way home
Never more to roam and roam...
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Comments17
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beautifully written