My Hike

 

 Walking steady up my parents path cold and full of thorns.

Walked it my whole life full of misery and trauma.

 

Need a new path.

A different route.

 Push through bushes.

Stomping hard.

creating a new path.

Bushes made from infected past. 

 

Feeling pain and loneliness

from the infected bushes.

Must continue, must push through

hurt, pain and guilt.

Making a path for me.

Tears are flowing

I hold on tight.

No path in site

 

 

Bushes turn into a path.

My path.

Start to see the world from a different angle.

Start to see the world from a higher place.

Parent’s path no longer in site.

Air smells sweet.

  No misery.

      Pioneer to my new path.

        Lets plant some roses

           filled with courage, love and joy.

                                                

Created a new path for my kids.

See my kids pioneer their path.

    A different route.

BY

ADOLFO VASQUEZ

STAY CONNECT WITH LOVE,  ADOLFO