Footsteps

Are the footprints I'm making my own?

There’s so many who want to manipulate me.

Am I thinking for myself?

Or just the illusion of it?

What if the person I am is not derived from me,

But from others?

A jumbled mixture of all the things that are in my head?

So,

Again,

Are the footprints I’m making my own?

Because I can’t help but feel like my feet are taking me places, places I don’t want to go.

Places where my mind is so used to.

Is the path I’m taking my own?

To look to the past is how you know,

But don’t wander too much or you’ll forget who you are,

And you’ll never escape your growing regret.