Concrete paths

They draw lines in concrete,
breaking apart the life that was underneath
But their smooth black-and-white path paves the way
for an easy route to fall in line
Polished but hard and ruthless
it doesn’t even bend around the mountain
We are a machine, to march our laid-out trail
and keep as straight as possible

And while that may be good for you
I lean too far away
My thoughts turn to purples and grays
curving away from the prebuilt road
As my bare feet touch the grass
the weight may lift off my shoulders
I may see you again in color
But the concrete doesn’t belong to me

Copyright © Robin LeeAnn

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