The soles of my shoes have become thin
From hiking up that mountain
I knew I couldn’t reach the top of,
But I still hiked up anyways.
My throat has gone hoarse
From yelling at this brick wall
I knew my voice wouldn’t reach the other side of,
But I still yelled anyways.
The umbrella I bought at the dollar store is now tattered
From hoping it would protect me in this hurricane.
I should’ve known it wouldn’t sustain that weather,
But I still used it anyways.
My eyes are red and dry now
After hiking up that mountain
And yelling at that brick wall
And feeling the force of the hurricane.
I should’ve known this would’ve happened,
But I still did it anyways.
Because I’m tired
Of sitting inside
When these shoes were meant for hiking,
This voice of mine was meant for yelling,
And I didn’t buy that umbrella
For it to just sit in the back of the closet.
My eyes are red and dry now,
But I’m alive and this was the only way
I knew I could make sure.