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I walk briskly on the pathway of truth Searching desperately for my youth I want to know how I got here For some people act as if they don’t care The light from the sun burns deeply in the Ground and the distance truth that I see is wrapped up in an age old mystery. Something peculiar happened in the town more than three decade before I came around honey was sold into paradise and cornmeal and flour were mixed up with rice bulla cake was sold for a dime and a family of five could survive off a pound of rice the kitchen table was large and a family of three could live abroad and survive off ten dollars a week. But now the color of the sky is changing the youths are aging and destiny is lingering behind the door and the truth is not yet told what happen to the little girl that was left behind I want to know if she is still alive, is she in Canada Or they bury her in the woods, and what have they Done with the old woman and the old man? Have they Gone off to Calvary or have they migrated into history, and who are these people around me are they my real family? From whence did they come? They look quite strange and out of place but I hope that when the truth is reveled my spirit will find some relief I am traveling on the road of truth and I am getting Ready to reclaim my youth, it was taken away from me to soon And I find myself wandering around looking for that one evidence that will unravel the truth of what took place At that vulnerable moment of my youth and the people that knew me then will tell the tales of what transpired when the old man booked his ticket to heaven and what became of the dream that made history. The story of my youth is the living truth and the passage of time will lay the foundation that is mine and the pain that we feel will be no more when the truth is revealed; my youth is traveling with me; it’s a part of history.
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