Pathways

We're all special; different,
each of us with our own kind of glow.

Don't follow me, I'm drifting,
taking the slower route now.

You step ahead and take the lead,
careful, the road ahead is steep.

Mind the pot holes and the spiders,
mind the silken webs they seed.

Keep to the path, don't you stray
and at the end we'll meet again

where the sunset touches the sea,
some day.

poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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