I love my own road, it took so long to make, it
gave me so much pain you wish it would go away
and than one day the road looked like it finally was
beginning to look like a road.
Thought just making it was just the sweat of it,
but not the tears, sorrow, darkness that suddenly
covered the area around it, so you could not continue
till the time was right.
To many pebbles to sort, not enough dirt to
make the foundation secure, surprises under each
level that is removed from the ground, leaving a
gap in between the sweetness that was use to live in
under neath all the confusion of misplacing the
dirt in the first place.
My road is not very straight, but it was made the
best I could make it, with a lot of sweat, love, compassion,
forgiveness, and much giving of my own heart without
any rewards, I made it strong to last many life times
Indeed my road was worth a life time of making,
and God was my strength through it all.
