My head looks in different directions
Uncertain of where the road really lies
If I turn into the western lane
Will my feet find fulfilment
If I turn into the local stores
Will my hunger find healing?
Even if my decision drains me
I shan’t stay stagnant and still
Don’t you see the wreckers at the other end
Can your ears not smell like their threats
Pondering, I turn my eyes to the clouds
And wait for a warming wand.