So we meet again, this new plateau often mistaken for the top.
Where you get caught fixated on the view and forget to look up to where this path continues.
For a moment, you almost had me convinced.
I almost let my guard down enough to stake a claim and I’ve made that mistake before.
But this isn’t where I belong, as beautiful and enchanting as the temptations may be, that’s all they are..
Its not for me.
I travel light, just one bag.
But that bag is my world — it contains my very existence.
Its my heritage
Its my culture
Its my being
Its my muse
Its my destination
I proudly wear scars from protecting my lone bag
There’s a certain sense of pride that comes with maintaining what many aren’t able to.
Over the years, my bag has been stolen many times..but I never lost possession.
Those who took it were in search of its empowerment.
But too them, Its just a picture.