Dead End

A breezy wheel that spins is merely a spin of a mindful duty

A rolling wind keeps howling merely out of respect for the past

And when we fallow them old dirt roads that lead to the dead end

We only know of our destination

Not what it will be

Not what it will end

Not what it may behold for our soul

We all walk down that road of our own tears

For whatever reason

For what ever whim

We walk

Knowing it leads to that dead end

But

Oh well

Why give a flying f**k which road we take

All roads lead to Rome

And Rome is non existent as a whole

So what’s left?

Only that dead end is there

Waiting for us to cross its warm threshold

Waiting for us to show our dead end

Just as we wait for that freaky clown to bounce out of that box

Just as the wind eventually die down

Change direction

Just as the very earth under my head shapes with it’s own preference

I shall change mine

And become my own choice

Become my own direction

Become my own

Dead end.