Freedom is a Carpet

This generation doesn’t give our steps a second thought, Leaving the house with a one-mind track Attempting to meet a destination without a plan, without looking back We go somewhere, anywhere And at the end of our journey We shuffle and scuffle our feet on the worn carpet Repeatedly without sorrow, regret or permission We assume the carpet will be there when we come back To catch and hold our worries and stories from our time away There’s only so much space on this carpet, thinning out from the years of thoughtless use Leaving, departing, forgetting Coming, arriving, unwinding There was a day when many people didn’t have carpets Dreaming of it, and the times it could clean them of experiences and disappointments Without that carpet, their lives were a mess Full of footsteps reminding them of mistakes and disturbing circumstance All they wanted was a carpet to tell them “Let me take it, give me your grief” Now that we all have a carpet we don’t feel the need to thank the carpet for all it has done It seems so strong and available But without it our lives will be wary and simply undone