Beneath the leather of these shoes,
Lays the feet that will walk my road.
The the legs above will follow,
As my feet below will goad.
And above those fateful legs,
Is a even more pulling heart.
One that'll push in the direction
From which I cannot part.
And further up my body,
Held up with a sort of pride.
Is the head that control them all.
Pushing, and goading as a guide.
©Odd 17/12/12
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Just a some what "odd" girl, living in what feels like a glass box. Hello Opuss, the savour of my sanity. my little private world amongst a life of being watched and watching.
For years she was a traveller, A gypsy on the road, Singing songs and telling tales, Relating every ode.
The pressure's on, The stove is lit, My future's tied, My path is split. Where am I drifting, Where am I going, Where is life heading, Where is life flowing.
Travel is my fate. A plan I must create. To be free. To be me. With glee. Walk with smiles. Travel a thousand miles. By foot. Scenery to look. Upon with excitement. This is the path I have chosen.
Completely at ease with myself. That one time I felt my best. Driving down the winding road. With nowhere else to go. My heart finally whole. It was then when I knew where I wanted to be.
I walked and walked. And talked and talked. Wanted to find me. Wanted to just be. So I walked and walked. Can no longer hear the people that talked. Till I was alone. Finally on my own.
The thought of leaving this place I call home, The thought of moving, the thought of leaving everyone behind, The thought of staying, the thought of decaying in this cottage I call home, The...
These windows aren't up so high, like they used to be. I can now taste what it's like to be free. Nobody told me. I had nothing to let go of, but I had the strangest feeling I needed to be free.
Some people all they see is orange & red. Some people they stare and that's all they get. Those that look further will always see and find more. They'll see the soft brush strokes and emotion drawn.
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