Lonely Roads

Rusted cans and rolling stones And a squirrel climbing wood With a staring eyes that forward crawl The mice might have found a little crumb. Birds return to their lovely ones And the winds go searching for quiet place An ant might somewhere find a way out sea While the sky shows the various shades. But somewhere else a girl walks slow Knowing not why her thoughts wander With the memories of the days Those has passed and are yet to come. …Thus on the silent lonely roads All do walk as lonely souls…