• mr_misfit_206 5w

    STOP signs

    Too many STOP signs along his path
    Kept him diverting from one to another
    But the others too showed him the same wrath,
    Just with a different colour

    December probably was the hardest walk
    His legs were fine, but his heart grew weary
    The cold was not the one who mocked
    But the faces around took his soul to bury

    He was a stray dog looking for a sheltered place
    Underneath his own roof among many familiar face
    Then came April who offered a decent home
    and brought his soul back from the sealed tomb

    And by the end of the following August
    He had cleared himself of all disgust
    But he still sees the STOP signs on the way
    But now He doesn't divert, he doesn't stop
    He keeps going, with a hope to reach the top

    He keeps going, He keeps going.