‘Troddin’ over hills and valleys, anything to get to you.’
Terrain jagged and unkempt.
Blisters soon form to replace soul.
Callused souls feel no pain,
So I wish this part of me which few see would grow layers thicker than human body in winter.
Would insulate itself from the cold nature of love and loss.
You see, most lose every time they love,
But what’s even scarier, is that they are generally the ones loss.
Bits of themselves left in forest,
Hidden in rock cleft,
Stabbed by the jagged faces which blistered feet once trod.
Their soul forms a chorus so somber.
Weeps from bits left in his arms soon learn to harmonize with the last breaths within the death of love,
Learn to beatbox in minor keys,
Teach feet to stop trodding.
The rhythmic parting of the atmosphere by the piercing of audible pain shudders down spine,
Shatters backbone of lover but rarely the loved.
Teachers lover to only be the loved.
Plugs holes where love once flowed,
Turns a broken but whole person into one who can only find solace in the arms of those never cared for.
Find only fear in sacrifice.
Find troddin’ to be too difficult
And love a prize not worth it.
Guys, this was a poem inspired by my cousin’s song Troddin’. She’s a dope artist with great conscious lyrics, so please check her out!
Soundcloud: https://soundcloud.com/princesskazayah/ (linked above)