Worn Out Footprints From the Same Duck Shoes
longing for a different life
i restart my journey
the worlds that i see are ones my eyes do not expect
the final turn leads me right back to now
i can wave a magic wand
i can conduct time like an orchestra
i can say an anthology of magic words
the same remains when all the smoke clears
longing for a sweet change of scenery
i readjourn in the same place where the drawing board suffered many an injury
the blueprint that i now design seem to contain the same turns, trails, and exits
the conclusion, once again, is to set my alarm so i can do it all again tomorrow
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