The Path
The path I shall walk may be old, controlled.
But the worn threshold I behold has foretold:
The worth of the thousands of steps I’m to take,
And thousands and thousands of mistakes I’ll create.
I shall be following the thousands before,
And still be followed by thousands ‘evermore.
Yet I will walk forward, no stay in my stride,
For I now take pride that the path is implied.
This poem is about:
Me