I fell a hundred times
Face planting into concrete and mud,
Painted scars making lines of red like markers from my cuts
Dripping down to the ground.
Bruised but not broken,
I got up to rise in the path I chose,
Walking off the path most trampled on.
A hundred times trying to step away,
To run back to my spirit screaming “come back!,”
A hundred times returning to where I belong,
Cuz the voice of my heart
Shouts so loud my mind can’t hide
From the call to be free from the confines of the normal kind
Of a life which could have been more safe and sound,
But happiness only in step on a road less traveled.
A hundred times
Shaking doubt and tired pursuit,
To live the life I can’t deny,
Because I was born this way
To rise above what was taught to those in my time.