Rolling Down – November 16, 2017

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.

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