Mould….

Walking alone on the untrodden path,
Sometimes you may come across some like you,
Similar to you or maybe poles apart,
They might hold your hands,
Or will let you go,
As you continue to walk on the path new,
Unfamiliar, scary sometimes,
Full of flowers or thorns on the way,
Sometimes you’ll bleed with the world at your call,
Or in the dark of the night,
When not a soul is visible,
You’ll laugh with your loved ones,
The ones those warm your heart,
And soothes your soul,
Or sob in the rain,
Hiding your vulnerabilities from the world,
For the world doesn’t deserve you,
You’ll think as they walk past you,
Laughing, mocking, Jibes thrown at you,
It will be hard sometimes,
The crippling pain of responsibilities,
Expectations, mistaken choices,
The past pulls you,
The future pushes you,
The present runs for your life,
Nothing seems right,
As your world slowly diminishes to your room,
Or even the penumbra of your being,
Slowly that tries to vanish,
Assimilate into the void,
Close your eyes,
Sit on the side of the path,
Absorb the sounds inside that speak to you,
Paint, Sing, Write, Dance,
Your creativity is your biggest friend in times like these,
It goes to sleep while you absolve yourself in the routine,
And comes to you when you let it wake up,
Do something for yourself,
Something you might never show the world,
For the untrodden path becomes difficult sometimes,
Its their nature,
For journeys like these make Kings,
Queens and Memories that write their own stories,
As you burn yourselves in the foundry of routine,
A mould you’ll create over the times,
And fill it with your hopes and ambitions,
A butterfly will come out,
And the mould will break,
The Mould will surely break
And the path will take you home,
Where your tribe resides,
The mind and heart at last,
In sync…….