Rolling down my face.
A little lighter with each tear,
A puddle on the floor, or wiped away.
This road I’m walking was never my choice.
It took so long,
So many days of pushing away, pushing back, pushing through.
I am here now.
Hear my voice.
See my pain.
Stop. Was this my choice?
Can’t hang on long,
Have to keep on rolling down.
DoRee MelNic 