On The Road.

On the road.
Again.
The road to gain.
My tentative steps
May suggest,
a need to forget,
why the title has that five letter word in it…
Again.

Oxymorons’ve got me feeling stupid.
To get up, is only to fall first.
I fell first
Felt thirst
Tasted dirt
Engaged in hurt.
Grazed knees and ached feet,
Defeat or perseverance?
A smile per severance,
Illustrates the prevalence
Of my sentence.
Sentences stay sentencing,
It’s only emotion that sent us in.
Dreams to prevail paid bail.
I’m out, and on the road…
Again.

Walking with my eyes closed now.
Apathy or reality?
There’s no turn I don’t know
My heart has gone cold
I know this road
This road knows me.
The visual echoes of my stumbling feet
Encore the sandy floors.
I kick the ground just to watch the sand surround…
Me.
I saw blurry vision.
Invoking optical illusions
to avoid emotional intrusions
Dusty glasses,
I got that clothe and spray
But ooh this joyful daze.
Joyful days.
Self-inflicted pain.
On the road.
Again.

Walk
Walk
Walk
Now i’m walking and I can’t see any more footprints.
I’m further then i’ve ever been.
Right leg, left leg. Forward.
Push away with your back foot.
Walking…briskly
Thinking…quickly
Jogging…sprinting
While fear grips me.
Or gripped me.
‘Cos for about 20 years now,
I’ve been walking,
On this road.
The road that never ends.
Took me a while to realise
Now I find,
That this road,
Is life.
We will vent but only after pitching tents.
We will fear defeat but only after sleep.
Tommorow,
we’ll walk and we’ll grow.
So yeah,
we on the road…
But it’s the only way we’ve ever known.

Leaves leave
Stalks cleave
Wind wins
Cold breeze
The same breeze that serenades your face,
Impose these friendly killer blows
to these unknown pro’s
In prose.
Stay with me.
If stalks could talk,
They’d probably
Exercise their right,
to grieve, the ones that left.
It’s an alright life,
But I regret this need to accept.
That you can’t control
What you can’t control.
They say leaves leave.

“Don’t cry, it happens”

It’s tragic, but it’s reality
like the harshness of gravity.
Throw your dreams up as high as you need to,
Stay on the ground and they’ll meet you.

So…”Don’t cry, it happens”

But we exercise our right
to grieve the ones that left.
If stalks could talk…
they’d tell you more;
They cleaved to those leaves
and fought thoughts.
Conceived a need for relief.
Now autumn haunts em’
So they let go,
Then they don’t.
Their tears blanket the concrete.
Obsolete in defeat.
Leaves leave.
But all we ever knew was love,
so excuse us while we gather up,
and exercise our right
to grieve the ones that left.

– Lex