I heard the darkness on the speaker.
I sensed the light on the tire.
I'm a pleasure seeker.
I'm a problem flyer.

I pray that the future unfolds,
certain history does not repeat;
sweetness holds
and time does not cheat.

I hold troubles on my shoulder,
grit bitterness in my teeth.
I slowly let go as i get older;
sweeping the ashes to the rug beneath.

Oh, the stories my soles could tell.
At least I can conceal my white hairs
that tattle of hell
and cheeks stained with tears.

It hasn't been all trials;
in fact it's mostly been good.
I've treaded thousands of miles.
Some would pay to stand where I stood.

I'm learning as a grow
to pick my battle.
Let the anger rise slow;
let those cages rattle.