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Paths
No paths no trail
No hills to climb
Simplicity as far as the lazy eyes could see.
Next time...
I'll look harder next time.
Picking the lint off my favorite sweater.
As I pull this carriage again
The mudslide seems to be the common trend.
Throwing a fit.
Waiting for this mud to turn to rock
So I have a place to sit.
Clutching the pristine rifle
Pin these medals on the battle harden coward.
Not one single dream chased
Not one battle faced
I love how that smells
But too afraid to taste.
