10 October 2012
I'm walking in these worn-out boots. I'm leaving home. I'm tearing roots. Moving forward, never back. My head is pure. My soul is black. The road before me twirls, unwinds. The world in front. A cage behind. Winds of free that play with my hair. I've grown my wings. I've broken the snare. Blank papers and ink. A wide-open door. I'm looking ahead as my boots scrape the floor. The path may change. It's the game you choose.
I'm walking away with the same old shoes.
Old Shoes • Opuss № I