seventeen years of a home where ever I steer
a wander addict can’t quit – the people that risk
it’s a bond in a bail out
we’re carving a new route
through an old parched path - we’re cutting swath
through a jungle of shit
we sit silent and alone
in the green grass dichotomy
elated and unknown
in the thankless debt of false autonomy
an unseen reason – recognition or subtle treason
the warm abuse or some excuse to keep ourselves unbound
the sake of art / the song of farce
a whispered echo when we’re gone
the instrument of sage descent
and all...
