Barefoot

I do not choose, To step foot in your shoes, But yet, walk barefoot, In your place… While not in your absence, shall I tread? Finding mine own footholds, my own bed to lie in, Blanketed by memories of you… And I cannot take credit- for glories in your name, yet achieve my bit of fame. I wonder if you look down, upon me; approving or nay… Hence, when my time- has passed through these travels, looking back will I have unraveled? The stumbles, tangles, and trips, Where my children now walk… Barefoot or slippered, be they burdened or unhindered. In their travels they’ll negotiate- the path that you and I- now harbor in memory only…