Slurring The Rhythms

There were no cameras brought for pictures to hold all the small

Details. we left them all behind. there was a place for and

There was a time for and now we arrive and leave again, there is

No point in a keepsake when you run from collections. i know one

Day there will be a book or a song line to remind me how much it

Meant to be hungy, exhausted, and alone. destination is a point,

Destination is a purpose, desperation is a reason to live...

And this makes a heart beat. this could be any day of any year. this

Could be any stage in any city. all that matters is we are moving

On. the roadside graveyards pass and we escape repeating. the

Construction of a nation building up and the destruction of a

Nation tearing down to build again. trailing taillights like the

Ghosts of the past en route to arrival. we are never going home.