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