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…