We stepped aside from the wide, paved path

Treaded our own by grinding the grass

Slow years of our rebellion passed

The sand like dust making fine shoe prints

Stepped over and over each other

We made our own path because it made sense

Our shortcut past the trees and by the lake

And finally over time the authorities gave way

Made way for a clearer path

Aided our rebellion in unity of reason

If only it was always that easy

If only the people had but to walk

On the path they chose for themselves

And the walls of power would come down

Perhaps Joshua was on to something

Photo by Ryo Yoshitake on Unsplash

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