Don't Worry

When do I kiss goodbye my troub..Lemme rephase that. SOJA too stronk.

At this point I can't

Stare at the cobblestones 

And truly thank them that I'm here.

I realize the sound they make when I drag my broken shoes over them.

Some bricks are loose,

Like I am loose in the moment.

I don't know what it's like to be young.

And I won't know what it's like to be old,

When I'm old, for I am young.

But the bricks are lain and the grass is lush.

Smiles in my ears, safety in my eyes.

It could all be behind.

If I don't climb,

And feel the jagged micro-needles.

In the creases of my palms.

Here's hoping, 

And here's hyping.

Author's Note

When do I kiss goodbye my troub... Lemme rephrase that Soja Too stronk