Smelling the roses on the roadside,
enjoying life,
the beauty of Gods creation,
when you tripped on a stone,
your life now spinning out of control,
you no longer smell the roses,
but cry in pain as the thorns pierce my skin,
hateing life,
not noticing the many great things,
to stay like this i think not,
bandage the wounds,
take off the blindfold,
open your eyes,
now,shall we journey again?
