all those things we were never told how children will grow up to mirror our shadows and how shadows are often brighter than garments of gold and how our faith will come back to us an unexpected night guest fragile and cold reminding us of when we should have stopped when we should have walked away and all the doors we should have closed the journey unfolds in retrospect and our feet are scarred with the whispers of the road we search for home in recycled tin and reach out to idols stifled with mould all those things we were never told
