tread softly, I say

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

[W. B. Yeats]

tread softly, I say, for life is
a path of broken glass!
tread softly and be quiet, they said
and I silently wept
my life was surely not mine - it passed right through me
and then kept running further
leaving me behind in a delicate balance
with the sparkling pieces of glass.

the people I had
the people who had me
the people I never had
they all had left
I could now see them far, far away
with glasses of wine in their hands
and with children on their backs - their own children!
they were all grown up and old all of a sudden
and I was still petrified on the broken glass path called life
I was still young, I was still small and I still couldn't understand a thing
it was all strange and foggy to me

tread softly! tread softly!
tread softly, I said to myself
life is a gust of foggy wind carrying in it
the people
the places
the memories
you will not actually posses
all passing by

tread softly, the glass will taste your blood - heretic toast
on the other side of life
tread softly, someone might see you
someone from the misty wind called life which passes by today
someone might see you leaving
someone might see you staying
tread softly, I say
tread softly!