These are not just words.
These are footsteps.
Footsteps stomping loudly, scuffing the fine wood floor of innocence
In salutation and impedance
Signaling that nothing will go by without first understanding what how and why.
These are the footsteps of my soul
Searching for a path to wander till I’m old, Tired and cant put up a fight anymore.
This is the march of my life
I’m an elephant decorated with silly clothing
walking a crowded black tar paved road into the west.
Hoping to find peace in the setting of the sun
And hoping that maybe
These footsteps were heard