My feet doesn’t always seem
To follow where I lead.
The more I think about it,
The more I believe
That it has a mind of its own.
Sometimes they just come to a halt
In the midst of a walk,
And instead of moving forward,
They take a turn
Upon a familiar road,
And I follow them,
Where I see old faces
And familiar smiles,
Where the scent of flowers
Bid me to come quicker
And to stay longer,
And if I’m not careful,
I know I wouldn’t want
To leave.
If it were up
To my own two feet,
They wouldn’t go anywhere else
But there
Where they could find rest.
In that warm place
Where I could snuggle into bed
Without fear
And where I’d wake up
With no regrets.
O, why must I go
If I wanted so badly to stay?
Perhaps someday,
I’d let my feet return
I’d let them take me back
Where I can be myself again,
But until then,
I’d tell them
There are things
That must be done,
And battles that must be won.
Someday, somehow
We’d find a way
To never leave again.
Find hope in your darkest hour.
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