I try to walk down a beaten path
Adorned with pins and needles,
And run into my own wrath.
Like anger, she lays her compassion aside
And tears her heart out for formaldehyde.
“I’m so lost,” she cries and I mirror back,
As I am just a child trying not to lose my knack for things.
God knows I’ve made my way,
But I need someone to say,
“Take my hand and know my warmth,
For I am with you always”.
I’d hate to be so cold,
Without that one to hold,
Whose body into I want to mold,
Who knows me as I am and how I will be,
Who will walk the beaten path beside me.