On The Roadside, Alone
a few steps away from the little dirt road,
on the edge of a lonely boulder,
I sit and wait:
hoping a random passerby might just find me.
but here, on my cold throne,
the trees are keeping me hidden
and no one really knows I’m here.
As the sun creeps across the barren sky
I soon realize that hoping for a savior
is a fruitless endeavor.
staring at the little dirt road
I find myself thinking how easy it is
to simply cross the edge and walk to the road,
it is after all just a few small steps,
but the road is unfamiliar.
Where I am now, at least to me,
isn’t strange at all.
I know these rocks
And I know these torns
I know the ants that crawl over my feet
and the flies that buzz at my ears.
leaving my twisted nest of familiarity
is just too frightening
and I am just too weak.
if only someone could show me the way.
show me how to walk.
but sadly no one ever sees me.
so I sit on the edge of a lonely boulder,
on the roadside,
alone
