Trodden

In a rush of people sometimes there are a few that get knocked down.

They fall.

Get kicked,

Trampled,

Bloodied,

Bruised,

Lost,

And forgotten in a sea of pandemonium.

At some point a young girl was walking on a path.

She had passions,

Goals,

Dreams,

Skills,

Loves,

Faith,

And zest for life amidst hidden turmoil.

Barreling full steam ahead in an ever-growing crowd, she didn't notice a root and tripped.

A trodden on hand,

A kick in the side,

A knee to the face,

Pain,

Injury,

Defeat,

And repeating failure to rise again.

Before she had the chance to get up and continue her course.

She had struggles,

Hurt,

Confusion,

Naivete,

Trials,

Emptiness,

And then weight dragging behind, heading forward with a broken compass.

For ages, fog clouded the way, with occasional sunbursts breaking through.

Muddled,

Then clear,

Dark,

Then bright,

Slow,

Then sprinting

And suddenly someone took her hand.

A man had linked his arm through hers and began to help her along.

Timidly,

Cautiously,

With relief,

Comfortably,

Thankfully,

Eagerly,

And as faithfully as she could, she followed.

They approached another girl, older, more worn, a litte worse for wear.

Familiarity,

Recognition,

Disappointment,

Forgiveness,

Acceptance,

Reunification,

And the process of healing had begun.

Older and younger were one in the same; each hesitant to receive the other.

Zeal,

Tribulation,

Innocent,

Violated,

Idealistic,

Pessimistic,

And hopeful for their future.

Hand in hand the pair turned back to see the man, now walking just ahead.

A glance,

A nod,

One step,

A stride,

Small falters

Here and there,

And they continue on, from dark till dawn, down the rocky road they tread.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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