Happy Feet

We break.

 

We cry.

 

We try to pick up the pieces.

 

We somehow manage to mend.

 

We stand up.

 

And fall again.

 

But we live.  We move forward.

 

I guess that's how we should do it.  Keep moving forward.  No one knows where your feet could take you.

Heck, mine took me to you.

 

And I must say, they were never cold again.  Always wanting to step ahead, always wanting to go somewhere, anywhere.  With you.

 

And we might have walked on thin ice, tripped and stumbled on mud... might have had to tiptoe, or drag our feet at some point.  But most of the time, we were floating mid-air and dancing with the wind, never really knew where we're heading, just frolicking through the beam of the sun, through the cold of the rain.

 

But happy feet get tired too.  And yours could march on to anywhere, and mine would have been dragged somewhere else.  But through all the cramps and sprains and whatever, these feet only want one place to rest on.  And that is beside yours.

 

And they would gladly get back on the ground again if it means it'd be one step closer to you.

 

We break.  We cry.  We mend.  We stand up.

But baby if I fall again, I would only fall for you.

You are what I live for, and I'd only be happy if I moved forward with you.

Reviews

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A pointed memory of hope, fear and all together fathomless motions, well written, good read