I’m walking down the path to my old oak tree,
where everything was given or taken from me.
As I’m stepping down my beaten path;
I picture our descisions and thier aftermath.
I look down on this weathered ground and see
a small remnant of how it used to be.
A pair of footprints next to mine,
Leading me down a trail divine.
Alas, these are just memories,
worn out like my dirt road;
It’s still leading me to our old oak tree,
where everything was given or taken from me.