Prosperity Is Found In The Roads

The roads up my forearm are bumpy. The tracks that once led me everywhere now drive me nowhere.

The true nature of prosperity lives within me — a lost cause as labeled by the many — but through a never-ending relationship with poetry and enriching novelists, that same road has forsaken all odds.

I can truly say I've been liberated. Can you?

The men who once laughed at me are now in pain. I know so because it’s in our very own veins and bones that serve us.

Our very own body — designed modestly and effortlessly — depicts depth beyond comprehension.

The road you are taking, or have taken before, will not define where you will land. All roads are bumpy one way or another.

Your cuts and bruises are merely a show of battle scars you’ve endured throughout your own endless journey.

Since the day you opened your eyes to a glorified essence to the last day you woke, know this:

The journey that led you through and over the roads was not a lesson — but an unexplainable, rugged thing we call prospering.