Broken Road.

I found the seeds of pain and resent the roots well embedded.

The lights that made me grow in the lonely beheaded.

A trickle of water to expire at my touch,

Watchful eyes that never close, never enough.

Could I be replanted in cotton, milk, or honey?

Bloom into something tasteful and desiring?

Should I remain aimless to a predestined path,

I would walk, always looking back.

Author's Note

07.05.2014